


Dance Alone

by chocoholicannanymous



Series: Dance 'verse [1]
Category: Glee
Genre: Not Blaine Friendly, background Sebastian Smythe, initial Klaine, not for the klaint of heart, rachel berry being the worst version of herself, the author does not accept whining about blaine, very few people get out of this smelling like roses, will schuester is not a good teacher
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-27
Updated: 2015-08-05
Packaged: 2018-04-11 13:22:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 43,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4437011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chocoholicannanymous/pseuds/chocoholicannanymous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Blaine accuses him of cheating Kurt faces a choice: breaking, bending or standing up for himself. He never expected what that would lead to. S3 AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Obsessivecompulsivereadr](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Obsessivecompulsivereadr/gifts).



Kurt focused on breathing, trying to calm himself enough to drive. (Because at that moment? He was an accident waiting to happen.)

Blaine had accused him of cheating. Had stood up in Glee and accused Kurt of cheating. He... He just couldn’t.

He’d been so sure that once Blaine had had some to to think he’d see that while it had been stupid of Kurt to trade texts with another boy, a flirty gay boy, it hadn’t been  **cheating** .

Only Blaine  **hadn’t** seen. Instead he’d walked into Glee and sung it out – sung a  **breakup** song – dragging every single one of Kurt’s friends into their fight. And judging from their behavior they’d all taken his side.

Okay, so maybe not Sam – but the jury was still out on him. He hadn’t spoken up in defense of Blaine, sure, but he hadn’t spoken up for Kurt either. And that? That was a little too telling for his taste.

Funny. Pretty much every single one of them had done worse than him, yet he was the bad guy? They hadn’t even reacted to this when Rachel cheated on Finn with Puck, and hell, they’d practically  **supported** Sam and Mercedes going behind Shane’s back. Even with Blaine – Kurt cringed.

When Blaine had been talking to Sebastian no one had cared – until Blaine had blabbed their set list.

Kurt was suddenly shocked out of his panic.  _No one cared._ Four months of Blaine talking to Sebastian, through text and skype and phone and sometimes over coffee. Four months of Blaine hanging out with the boy who was trying to steal him away. And no one had cared. No one had questioned it, or called it cheating. But one week –  **less** than one week – of Kurt texting, and  **only** texting, another boy and suddenly  **everyone** cared. Suddenly they all acted like they’d personally been hurt by his actions, and as if he was the anti-Christ. (And wasn’t  **that** a familiar feeling?)

Because Chandler was flirty. (Never mind that he’d never made any kind of  **real** move on Kurt.) Because Sebastian was “family friendly”.

Kurt frowned. That still didn’t seem right to him. The criminal chipmunk might be a lot of things, and some of them even decent, but family friendly? PG 13? With the filth that usually came out of Smythe’s mouth in Kurt’s presence he had come across as anything but, and it honestly didn’t seem likely that he’d been that much different alone with Blaine. Then he wouldn’t really know – he hadn’t seen the texts exchanged, and had obviously not been present for their conversations.

Sure, he could always ask Blaine if he could see those “family friendly” texts for himself, but he had a strong feeling that not only would Blaine refuse – because Kurt was supposed to trust him – but that those texts were no longer present on his phone. Snooping was an option, yes, but only theoretically. Blaine was downright  **paranoid** when it came to his phone.

And that meant, since there was no way Blaine would talk about it, that he had no way of telling what supposedly made the “Kurt-and-Chandler” situation that much different, so much worse than the “Blaine-and-Sebastian” one. None.

_But, is it really? Or is it only different because Blaine says it is?_

That thought...was painful. Because it somehow felt so very accurate. Honestly? The only difference Kurt saw was that Blaine’s transgressions were worse. That was him though. No one else seemed to think that way.

It all hurt. Part of Kurt wanted to just ignore everything that had just crossed his mind, and instead go home to prepare his own song (“I Have Nothing” came to mind) but another part...

That part of him that had worn a kilt to prom and a corset to school, that had landed him spots on both the Cheerios and the Titans, that part wanted him to stand up for himself. Wanted to erase all doubt. And he knew exactly how to do it. Only... If he did? Then he just might ruin every possibility of him and Blaine ever fixing things – even if Kurt’s new suspicions turned out to be unfounded.

However, something about Blaine’s arguments had seemed off to Kurt, even if he hadn’t been able to pinpoint exactly what in the panic, and the hurt and the – yes – guilt. Now though... Now the picture was getting clearer to him. No matter what Blaine said, or thought, there was one absolute fact talking against him: what Kurt had seen and heard for himself simply wasn’t compatible with what Blaine was describing.

Basically, he had two options. He could walk into Glee the next day and grovel, taking responsibility for things he felt he hadn’t done while excusing everything that Blaine had done wrong. Or... He could go with his gut. He could show some backbone.

“ _No one pushes the Hummels around”_ his memory whispered, and something told him his dad hadn’t excluded partners in that. Just like that he made up his mind.

He pulled out of the parking lot.

 

 

The drive to the Anderson house had never been so short. Or so long. And now Kurt just sat there, staring into thin air as doubt ran wild through him. Did he really want to do this? He could still back out, could still decide to trust his boyfriend and to fight for their relationship. It meant forgetting every thought that had crossed his mind in the last hour or so though. It meant forgetting that Blaine had called him a cheater, and his misgivings when it came to Sebastian Smythe, meant swallowing the hurt and the doubts, and just go on as if nothing had changed.

Except...it didn’t. It meant more than that – it meant begging for forgiveness while accepting that  **Blaine** had done nothing to warrant some begging of his own. And Kurt didn’t think he could do that.

He swallowed and kept staring in front of him. So. He had two options. The first was to leave and never ever revisit the thoughts of Blaine being a bad boyfriend. The other one... The other meant going into Blaine’s home, invade his privacy and violate his trust. He’d be breaking the promises he’d made, both to Blaine and to himself, about how to act in this relationship. Chances were he’d also be breaking what remained of said relationship.

He couldn’t see how he’d be able to save his relationship, to have it be healthy in any way, if he resorted to snooping. Only, he wasn’t too sure there was anything left to save as it was.

Once he’d begun having doubts, begun thinking critically about Blaine’s behavior? Once that happened “Klaine” had begun disintegrating, and the remaining pieces felt too small, too brittle, too painful to seem salvageable.

Before he knew it he was out of the car, using the key he’d been entrusted with during Blaine's convalescence, and quickly found his way to his boyfriend’s room. Once there he sat down in front of the computer (He did  **not** look at the bed, the bed he’d lost his virginity in. He didn’t) and turned it on.

Blaine was a creature of habit. It sometimes annoyed Kurt, but it made searching his computer easy. There was a “communication” folder, with various sub-folders for different people.

His own was at the top, and he knew that if he were to open it he would find everything he’d ever sent Blaine – every text, every e-mail, every picture... Even the completely irrelevant ones, like the cake spam from when he’d gone cake shopping with Carole before the wedding. Blaine saved  **everything** .

And that meant that somewhere there should be a folder for Sebastian Smythe as well. Scrolling down the list of names – Wes, Mike, Artie, Cooper, Rachel, Mr Schue... – didn’t give any result, but there was a “Warblers” folder. That’s where he struck gold.

“Seb”.

The casual label burned. Blaine had said that Sebastian Smythe meant nothing to him, yet he’d had no issues with meeting up with him, and talking, and using nicknames... And he’d kept everything. Even after the slushie, and the operation, he’d kept all of Sebastian’s messages. That was...rather telling.

There were a lot of messages too. The sheer amount of files was daunting, and made him feel more than a little nauseated. They’d been in contact  **that** often? There was no way he’d have time to look at everything, or even a small portion, and honestly? The fact that there were so many messages made his snooping feel justified.

He pulled out the flash drive he’d pocketed before leaving his car and started transferring the contents of the folder. As long as he had them he could always read them later. Or not. His conscience was already going back and forth between telling him that he had a right to know and bugging him about this being wrong, no matter what Blaine had or hadn’t done.

Kurt had no idea what side of himself to listen to any longer – he just knew he had to make sure he had the option. Anything else could wait.

_~ TBC ~_


	2. Chapter 2

The flash drive burned in his pocket, just as the guilt did in his stomach. He had just violated his boyfriend’s –  _was Blaine still his boyfriend though?_ – privacy in a way he’d sworn he’d never, ever do – not to anyone. So why had he? Because he was hurt? Because he wanted to strike back? Were any of his reasons really good enough, even if maybe, just maybe he’d been justified in his suspicions?

He didn’t know. Just as he didn’t know what to do next. Should he go through the messages or not? Wasn’t the right thing to do to  **make** Blaine sit down and talk about what was wrong, on  **both** parts, and to give the other boy a chance to explain everything with Sebastian?

He needed to think, but couldn’t. He needed help, but didn’t know who to turn to. Theoretically he should be able to go to any of his friends with something like this, but. It was Blaine. And they were all Blaine’s friends too – sometimes maybe even more so than his. Like say when they had chosen to back Blaine over him about the cheating, without even questioning it. (And  **no** , he wasn’t going to dwell on that painful insight.)

He needed someone objective yet friendly, and he needed a distraction. He just had no idea where to find either. And then he spotted it. Just a small sign, nothing flashy or obvious, but still a revelation. Suddenly he knew exactly where to go.

Quickly pulling over – because Kurt Hummel had  **not** needed Quinn Fabray as an example when it came to phones and cars, thank you very much – Kurt dialed a number that was quickly becoming familiar and waited.

“Kurt?”

“David, hi. I’m not interrupting anything am I? Because I was hoping we could meet up for coffee.”

“I... I don’t–” The hesitation was obvious in the other boy’s voice and Kurt winced. _Thoughtless, stupid. Fix it!_

“And by ‘meet up’ I obviously mean ‘would it be okay if I grabbed some coffee and came over’.” He hadn’t, but he also hadn’t been thinking. If he had it would have been a given that David wouldn’t be up for being out and about quite yet – not even without the added stigma of being with the local gay kid. _ **Other**_ _gay kid._ And maybe not being in public was better for **both** of them. “Please?” And it was low of him, resorting to begging, especially considering– _no, not going there_. B ut. “I could really need some time with a friend right now.”

“Yeah, okay. Sure, you can come over. Some time with a friend sounds great.”

And how sad was it that they’d come to this? The popular jock who ruled the school. The gleek with his crazy but supportive “family”. Both of them had had their own circles of friends with no need to look any further. To each other they’d only been bully and victim –  _**ex** _ – and now it seemed as they’d become the only one the other could rely on.

Twenty minutes later as Kurt looked at David’s shy smile over a cup of tea – because apparently coffee irritated his throat too much – he thought that maybe that wasn’t so bad after all. And god, he wasn’t seriously sitting there admiring the way that smile made David’s eyes glitter, was he? Oh, he was. That was bad. Very, very... Reroute brain!

“Distract me. Let’s... Let’s talk about college!”

“I thought you didn’t know yet.”

“I don’t. My audition isn’t until next week, and then there’s waiting for an answer that won’t show up until sometime late May. I meant you. Tell me all about this college that’s going to make the next four years of your life an amazing experience.” Because the last thing he wanted to talk about right then was his damned audition.

“I’m not going.” Three words, said in a quiet voice, and yet they shocked Kurt like they’d been screamed.

“What? But... I don’t understand. You sounded so happy about it, and you have a scholarship–”

“ **Had**. They withdrew the offer.” Again, such a short, quiet sentence and such a punch they delivered.

“What? They can’t do that! Tell me they can’t do that! Why are they **doing that**?” And he could tell he wasn’t making things better, but he didn’t understand.

“The thing about being outed the way I was? It doesn’t stay quiet, and it sure as hell doesn’t stay local. I don’t know if the school was keeping tabs on me, or if someone tipped them off – and to be honest it doesn’t matter. They found out. And they were **not** happy.

“So now not only do I not have a scholarship, but also I’m not welcome at the school I was pinning all my hopes on.”

And Kurt felt so helpless, looking at the other boy. David looked drained, of energy and happiness, and so very different from how he’d looked just moments ago, before Kurt had ruined it by opening his mouth. It was a look that brought out all his protective instincts.

“That’s not right. They shouldn’t be allowed to do that. You could fight it. I admit I’m not the best resource on how, but I could help you look it up” because anything beat going home to deal with a certain flash drive issue “and I’ll support you every step of the way. The Berrys have contacts in the ACLU,” as everyone who’d ever had the misfortune of angering Rachel knew, “and I know my dad would be happy to help as well.” And he **did** know that.

Burt Hummel might have been willing to go after David back when he’d been a stupid jock hurting his son, but now that Kurt was no longer in any danger and  **David** was the one being hurt? The tables had turned, alright, and Burt Hummel was man enough to step up.

“Yeah, I could fight it. But it would be a really bad idea. Officially I lost my scholarship because I didn’t finish out the season, and the semester. Unofficially? I’m the **fag** that made them look bad, and if I show my face there they are going to make me pay. After all, grading can be **very** subjective, and if I complain, well. By now everyone ‘knows’ that I’m not exactly stable.”

Kurt winced. Were they really assholes enough to use David’s desperate attempt to end the torment (by ending his  **life** ) against him?

“Also, if I win? There are other ways to make me pay, you know. Worst case scenario they force me to actually take a place on the team.”

“I don’t understand. You love playing, don’t you? And being on the team would mean getting your scholarship, wouldn’t it?” David nodded. “Then how can that be a bad thing?”

Granted, sports weren’t his thing. They’d  **never** been, and the best he could manage was to not let it show exactly how bored he was when joining his dad. Still, shouldn’t getting to be on the team be a good thing?

“I don’t... Look, Kurt. You’re not stupid. You **know** that playing a contact sport can be dangerous – you **have** to know that. But I’m not sure if you realize that the most dangerous part? Is playing with guys who want you off the team.

“Wanna guess why I switched from hockey to football? It had nothing to do with preference – because then I’d pick hockey any day of the week. Same goes for talent. And it sure as hell wasn’t that I thought that the football team would take it better if they found out about me. No, it came down to one thing. I wanted to play a sport, but I knew I could be outed any day. And you know what I decided? I decided that if that happened I’d prefer it if the guys coming after me didn’t have knives strapped to their feet.”

Kurt swallowed. He was well aware of how horrible things could be, how little the people of Lima thought about hurting someone for being gay, but this? What David was describing? It wasn’t something he’d thought about. He’d encouraged – okay,  **pushed** – David to come out thinking that the good would outweigh the bad. But when he’d thought “bad” he’d meant slushies and slurs, thinking David’s size and his friends would keep the more physical bullying away.

To find out that David had been worrying about his teammates, those same friends Kurt had seen as backup, causing that same bullying? Worrying about how badly they would be able to hurt him? That scared him – and made him feel very small.

“David? I’m sorry. I’m sorry for this happening to you, but most of all I’m sorry for every time I said – no, that I even **thought** that you should just come out. I didn’t mean to be an idiot about it, but obviously I managed anyway. I thought... I honestly believed it would be a good thing, for everyone. For you as well.

“I didn’t see this side though. So, I apologize.”

“No! You don’t get to apologize, Kurt, not you, not after everything–”

“But I do. David, what’s happened in our past, what you did and said? Yes, you made mistakes. Some pretty awful ones too. But they are in the past. You apologized and you meant it, I know you did, and I’ve forgiven you.

“So you need to let it go, and forgive yourself, and most of all? You need to let go of the idea that I get some sort of free pass at behaving like an idiot towards you because of it.”

“I’m not perfect. I know I’m not. I make all these stupid mistakes too, and I get away with too many of them when it comes to some people” _and none at all with others_ “and I need to learn to do better. And to apologize.

“I tend to make generalizations, to think that what’s true for me has to be true for others as well, and I keep doing that to you. Maybe it’s because for so long I only had myself to look to when it came to what being gay meant. That still doesn’t make it right. I thought I could tell you to come out because I knew what it meant to do so. Because I **thought** I knew what it meant.

“I forgot that we are very different people, with different circumstances, and that my experience wouldn’t be yours. **Couldn’t** be, because we’re not the same.

“I messed up, and I’m sorry for it. And **you** don’t get to tell me otherwise.”

That felt... Refreshing. He’d mishandled things with David and he  **knew** it, and if they were to be friends, really be friends, then he needed to do better – and to have David know where they stood. Know that he should never just roll over and take it when Kurt messed up.

“Okay. Then I forgive you. And I’ll... I’ll work on what you told me. I promise.”

“Great. Now, if you’re not going to fight that stupid school, what **are** you going to do? I mean, you said you pinned all your hopes on it, but there has to be something else...?”

“I already turned down the other schools I was accepted at, and with the exception of community college I’m screwed, basically, on the school part. I haven’t had too much time to think about it, since I only found out yesterday, but I guess I’ll have to find a job.”

They shared a grimace. Waiting for a year or two before college and working instead was  **theoretically** not a bad thing, but for people like them, who’d been dreaming – and  **dreaming hard** – of getting out for so long? It was torture. Especially if that “working and waiting” took place in Lima. Lima might be an okay place for some, but not for a gay teen.

“What do you want to do? No limits except your own – what do you **want**?”

“Want? I want... To play hockey. Become a sports agent. Get the hell out of Lima. Never having to deal with certain people again. But–”

“No, no buts. Okay? Those are **good** dreams, David. Don’t let anyone tell you differently. Don’t let **yourself** tell you differently. You’re obviously a good hockey player, otherwise you wouldn’t have been recruited, am I right?”

“Yeah. But what team wants a gay guy? You **know** what the jock mentality is like. And it doesn’t get any better outside of high school – it gets **worse**. I told you, I go on the ice with them **knowing** and I’m toast. It’s that simple.”

Kurt didn’t know how to argue against that. He didn’t know enough about sports to even know where to start. Except...

“Maybe you’re right. Maybe every team is like that. **Here**. But there are other places, other countries playing hockey, aren’t there? It’s big in Canada, right, and, and... Russia! There has to be somewhere you could find a team willing to take you on, especially since not everywhere is as homophobic as here.”

He was reaching, sure, but there was a light coming back on in David’s eyes, and he knew he was onto something. Except for the part about Russia – which might have been one of the most stupid things he’d said all year, with how bad things were there for lgbt persons. Still. Now, how to put the pieces together...

“Canada has marriage equality, and I know several European countries do as well. Surely there has to be a team somewhere out there who’d be okay with taking on someone talented! Okay, maybe you can’t just show up and get a starting position or whatever, but some sort of internship?” And oh, this was **clearly** not just about David, but just as much about Kurt’s own fears and uncertainties when it came to the future. That didn’t make it any less true though. Right?

The smile he was rewarded with might not have been David’s best effort, but it was a lot better than the depression of just a few minutes ago.

“Come on. At least look it up, would you? I’d say ‘we’ but, well. I’m pretty useless when it comes to sports, and we both know it.” This time he got a laugh.

“Yeah, well, I’m not going to agree with you! I like my head where it is, thank you, so telling you you’re useless? Not happening, okay. But... It’s a good idea. Canada sounds like a good place to start, with it being on the same continent, but Europe would work too. I’ll see what I can dig up.”

“But Kurt? What about you? I don’t want to pry, but it’s been obvious since you called that something’s not right, and you asking me to distract you only confirmed it. Want to talk about it?”

For a moment he debated saying no. He didn’t want to burden David, not when he had his problems – problems that, to be honest, made Kurt’s seem small and petty in comparison. But. Experience had taught him that repressing what bothered him only led to more problems later on. Besides, rating issues? Saying that someone’s problems were less important? Bad idea.

“It’s not pretty, and I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable or as if you have to listen. You have your own life to deal with. I don’t mind talking to you about it though...” Or well, he kind of did, because what David thought of him **mattered**. If David told him he’d been cheating, and was a bad person... That would hurt. It would also be the most unbiased opinion he’d be able to get from someone who knew both him and Blaine.

“Then talk. You listened to me, now I listen to you. That’s what friends do, isn’t it?”

And the hesitant way David said “friends” was what did him in. Turned out, he was defenseless against that longing look.

“Okay. Blaine and I are...having some problems. He thinks I’m cheating on him, and called me out on it in Glee today. In front of all our friends, who seem to be siding with him.”

That was...diplomatic. Too much so. He’d wanted an opinion, hadn’t he? It had been part of why he’d contacted the jock, so that he’d have the option of talking about what had happened and have someone else weigh in on it. But for that to happen he needed to be more honest than that.

“Things have been difficult for a while. I know that it’s partly because of me, because I’m so focused on my audition and trying to get into NYADA, but it’s not just that. He’s been pulling away, and pretending he’s not, and I... I missed having him there.

“So a few days ago I went to look for sheet music, alone, again, because he couldn’t make it, and met someone. A **gay** someone. It wasn’t like **that** , not for me, but I could tell he saw things a little differently. He asked for my number, and I was stupid enough to give it to him. I told myself it was okay, he was just a potential friend, someone who’s also applying for college in New York this year. But.

“Then the first text came, and it was flirty. Really, really flirty. Bad jokes and such, no propositioning or anything, but enough for me to feel a little uneasy. Not enough for me to put a stop to it though. I should have, I know, but instead I just let him know I already had a boyfriend. And I thought that made it okay – or rather, I pretended that it did. Because Blaine spent four months texting Sebastian – that guy from Scandals? – and that was supposed to be okay.”

He could hear the whining, defensive tone in his voice and paused. If David was going to judge him, then he would do so regardless of how many details Kurt gave him. And if he wasn’t? There really was no good reason to rehash everything, not when it would only serve to make Kurt feel even worse.

“So what happened?” An even tone, no judgment to be picked up on, but. No support either.

“Yesterday Blaine went through my phone. He was in my room, my phone kept buzzing from Chandler texting, and so Blaine picked it up and searched it.

“I got upset and defensive, he got angry and called me a cheater, before storming out. Then today he called me out on it through song in Glee, and they all... God, it’s not like they have any room to judge! With the exception of Artie every single one of them have either cheated or helped someone else cheat.

“And that’s okay. Blaine spending so much time with Sebastian was okay too, up to the point where he sold out our setlist for Regionals. And even then...

“I mean, I know I shouldn’t have let Chandler text me those things. I know I should have been firmer with setting boundaries if he wanted to be my friend. But I didn’t cheat! I was stupid, but I didn’t cheat.” And he ran out of steam, and confidence, and just...everything.

“Did I?”

He looked up at the other boy, searched for an answer in troubled hazel eyes and felt like such an ass for doing this, for laying this on David – when he  **knew** ... And oh, how uncomfortable the jock looked. Kurt felt shame burn on his cheeks and opened his mouth to tell his friend (?) to forget about it, to forget he’d ever said anything at all about it and–

“Look, I’m not the best one to talk to about relationships, and I have no business telling anyone how to handle theirs – not with my most successful one being with Santana – but it sounds like the two of you are having problems. Serious problems. You should talk to each other, not just sing.” And yeah, David definitely had a point there. “And in private, because doing that in front of your friends was kind of an asshole move. Sorry. But, as for what you did? Me personally? I wouldn’t call it cheating, but that’s **me**.  As for whether or not he had a right to be upset about your texting, I guess it depends on what kind of agreement you have.”

The words shocked him. Agreement?  _Agreement?_ The word echoed inside him, and  **hurt** . He and Blaine didn’t have any kind of agreement – they had (had had?) a  **relationship** . Kurt hadn’t known there was a need for an agreement about what did and didn’t constitute cheating.

What he  **had** known going into all this was that Blaine had exchanged texts with Sebastian, had talked to him on the phone, and met him for coffee at least once. So, he’d figured that it would be okay, non-cheating behavior for  **him** to text Chandler. After all, that was how Blaine had treated it during the few seconds Kurt had managed to get him to talk about him being in contact with Sebastian.

Trading texts with Chandler had felt okay in that light. Or, to be honest, he’d convinced himself that it did. Because really? Giving Chandler his number had felt weird, and the first flirty text he’d received had almost led to him blocking the other boy.

He’d pushed that feeling away though – which he was willing to admit had been both wrong and stupid – because Blaine had done it first. (And god, did that make him feel childish.)

Yes, he’d screwed up. Yes, he’d used Chandler both to make himself feel better and in the hope of making Blaine jealous. He’d acted wrong.

But if what Kurt had done was wrong then so was what  **Blaine** had done – only Blaine didn’t see it like that. Because he didn’t “like” Sebastian.

And maybe he hadn’t. What he had liked, however, was the attention the Warbler had heaped on him. That much had been glaringly obvious. And if it was cheating when  **Kurt** texted someone else because he liked having that person pay attention to him? Then the same had to be true for Blaine.

Honestly, he couldn’t see any other reason for Blaine to have stayed in touch with Sebastian. They had met at Dalton, yes, but Blaine wasn’t a student there any longer, nor was he a Warbler. And really, those two things and being gay was all the common ground the two had shared.

That on its own shouldn’t have been enough for Blaine to insist on keeping Sebastian in his life once Kurt had made it clear that he didn’t like it, and felt threatened by it. Add the fact that Sebastian had been clearly coming on to Blaine, and hadn’t cared that he was already in a relationship? (And yes, he’d heard that much before revealing himself to the coffee drinking duo.)

That hadn’t felt right to Kurt, and he’d only agreed it was okay because Blaine had insisted it was. He hadn’t pushed, because while he might not have trusted the meerkat he’d trusted his boyfriend – and the last thing he wanted was to be controlling and possessive. How interesting it was to see that everything was different now that the tables were turned.

He honestly couldn’t have told anyone what the rest of his time in the Karofsky household had contained – he was too busy brooding and going back and forth between rage and guilt.

But as Kurt drove home parts of their conversation kept coming back to haunt him. The way David had looked and sounded when talking about his teammates coming after him, wanting to hurt him... To David it hadn’t been a possibility, it had been a certainty. And the way he’d talked about the skates...

Kurt shuddered and swallowed down bile. He knew exactly how sharp good skates were. For David to have envisioned those blades being used as weapons against him, cutting him, making him– No. Just... No.

A vivid imagination was a blessing most times, but when it came to scenarios like these... It was a curse. He already knew he’d be having nightmares about it, the full HD, Technicolor experience.

He’d honestly never imagined a scenario like that. Not for either of them – not even with Blaine’s story in mind. McKinley had always meant violence, yes, but not  **like that** . Ruined clothes, ruined books and school supplies. Bruises and scrapes. But it had never really gone beyond that to something truly harmful.

Kurt’s worst case scenario had always been rape. He’d known for years that it was a possibility for someone like him, and he’d readied himself to fight back should it ever come down to that, but he’d never  **really** feared it. Not at school. Sure, there was talk – there had  **always** been talk – about giving him what he ‘was so obviously begging for’, but that was all it had ever been, and ever would be. Talk.

There had been a football player during Kurt’s sophomore year, a senior, that had set off his alarms, as well as two guys on the hockey team after that. He’d been even more careful around them, but he’d never actually  **believed** they’d go through with it. Because no matter how awful McKinley was, rape was going too far. Not even the worst of his bullies would have let that pass – and Kurt had that on excellent authority.

(Puck had confirmed it, drunk, that even when he was throwing Kurt into the dumpster on a daily basis he would have hospitalized anyone trying  **that** .)

Worst case scenarios were just that. Scenarios. Something to plan for and avoid – not something to count on as unavoidable truth. That it hadn’t been so for David made him want to cry. Sure, he hadn’t gotten hurt, physically hurt, by anyone else (yet) but everything else?

With the exception of his father and Kurt David had lost everyone. Every single person he’d once counted as a friend had instead turned into part of the bloodthirsty mob chasing him.

Not even Kurt’s imagination could make him understand that.

He never wanted to understand that.

_~ TBC ~_


	3. Chapter 3

By the time Kurt finally got around to going through the messages he’d copied from Blaine’s computer he’d already made a decision: no matter what he found, he and Blaine needed to  **talk** . Maybe go to couples counseling. (Not with Miss Pillsbury, though, since history proved that  **that** never ended well for anyone) Things needed to change between them though, or they’d never make it.

And even with things being a bit rough at the moment Kurt  **wanted** them to make it.

That resolve lasted about two minutes.

He’d started with a chat log, and well,  **Blaine** might have kept his messages “family friendly”. But Sebastian? Just as Kurt had expected  **those** were a completely different story.

Sebastian had mixed compliments, flirting, outright propositioning and insults to Kurt. Pretty much as he’d expected. What he hadn’t expected was that Blaine hadn’t done more than raise token protests.

That hurt.

Still, even if that one file was all Kurt needed to know that Blaine wasn’t as innocent as he’d claimed, nor as good of a boyfriend, he was still going to look at everything. In for a penny, in for a pound. And besides, if he didn’t, and confronted Blaine? Chances were he’d find out this was the only time things had been that bad.

God, he hoped so.

Slowly Kurt went through every single file, despite how much it hurt seeing how Sebastian had flirted while Blaine had offered nothing but token protests. Instead he had just soaked up the compliments, and allowed the blatant come-ons, without even once telling the other boy that his behavior was unacceptable.

Still, Blaine hadn’t flirted back. Not really. There were a few comments Kurt was uncomfortable with, but seeing as it was Blaine chances were they hadn’t meant anything. (They  **needed** to not mean anything. They hadn’t meant anything when Blaine had said them to  **him** in the beginning, after all.) There was one message that gave him pause, though, just a few lines from Blaine to Sebastian. It  **could** mean something completely innocent, but something about it made Kurt’s stomach clench.

“ _Seb. About yesterday. What I said was out of line. Please, forget it. I’m with Kurt.”_

Yeah. It could be innocent. It sounded “family friendly”. He just had a very insistent feeling that he really, really didn’t want to know what it was that Blaine had said. On a Saturday night. On a Saturday night when Kurt hadn’t been able to see Blaine, because he’d been to some party or other with his parents.  _Or so he_ _**said** _ _..._

The message had been sent only days before the “I Want You Back” spectacle. He didn’t want to think about what that could mean either. He didn’t exactly get to choose though, because his brain was done taking directions. It sounded like Blaine had encouraged Sebastian in some way – a theory that was only validated by the Warbler’s tone in the following messages.

Also, everything about that message said that Blaine had spoken to Sebastian in person – and that made one more such occasion that Kurt hadn’t known about. Texting Chandler felt even less of an offense after that. Kurt choked back a bitter laugh. It sounded like Blaine had behaved in a way he would have crucified  **Kurt** for.

_Hypocrite._

He saved the video for last – and ended up having to puke after watching less than half. Going back to his computer, restarting and watching the rest of it was one of the hardest things he’d ever done – outside of anything having to do with his dad’s heart attack. In the end it was only the hope that it wouldn’t turn out to be as horrible as it first seemed that got him there. It was even worse.

Sebastian had sent Blaine a video of himself masturbating. While moaning Blaine’s name.  **And Blaine had kept it.**

He threw up again.

 

Once he’d gotten the taste of vomit out of his mouth (and mostly gotten over the urge to throw up a third time) Kurt sat down and tried to focus.

Blaine had... Wow, he didn’t even know how to phrase it. It wasn’t cheating, not really – no matter  **how** certain he was that Blaine would have used that label had it been  **Kurt** behaving that way – but what Blaine had done was wrong on so many levels it made Kurt’s head spin.

Four months worth of Sebastian’s flirting suddenly felt like child’s play. All Kurt could focus on was that what pretty much amounted to a sex tape, with Blaine as the object, had stayed on Blaine’s hard drive for almost two months. “Family friendly”. He laughed, only to have it morph into a sob.

Oh God, what a mess his life was.

One week until his audition. Seven days. He needed to keep everything together for another seven days, no matter how much he wanted to rant and rave and destroy (Blaine) things. He had absolutely no idea how.

At least he was lucky enough to still be alone in the house. That would change soon though, because even if his dad had been detained in D.C. and Carole had joined him there was still Finn. Oh god, Finn. One of the last things he wanted right then was to deal with his stepbrother, or, to be honest: to deal with Finn sprouting Blaine-propaganda.

To think he’d been so happy to have his stepbrother and his boyfriend get over their issues and become closer. And now he would have given so much to have Finn still resent Blaine, just so he’d feel like there was someone having his back.

Because that? Was something he was afraid wouldn’t happen with the rest of the New Directions. Judging from how they’d all behaved during Blaine’s song earlier they wouldn’t be taking his side – not unless Kurt told them everything.

And, he had to admit, maybe not then either. Blaine had charmed them all, at Kurt’s expense. It hadn’t really meant anything before, but now... Now it might mean everything.

He needed a plan, and borrowing his dad’s blow torch (the thought placed a brief but fond smile on his face) before paying a visit to both Blaine and Sebastian Smythe wasn’t one. At least it wasn’t a good one. (He’d hold onto the idea for later though, place in his mental archive to revisit in his imagination and allow his frustration to run its course.)

Thanking his lucky star for the mini-fridge and kettle residing in his room, and having an en suite bathroom, Kurt took a quick trip downstairs to stock up on food items. He might not have any kind of appetite at the moment, but sooner or later he would – or would have to force himself to eat anyway. Watching his weight was one thing, but starving oneself was never acceptable.

When he was satisfied with his stash he locked the door, and then turned off his computer. Next he called his dad, keeping it short with the excuse of not feeling well, and warning him that Kurt would be keeping his phone off most of the weekend in order to get some well needed rest. Then he turned his phone off too.

Five seconds later he turned it back on, suddenly stuck by a realization.

David would be worried after their talk – not just for himself, but for Kurt too – and that meant Kurt just dropping off the face of the Earth for a few days would be a bad idea. He did  **not** want to give his friend more grief, not when he had so much going on in his own life. However, he really didn’t want to talk, not to anyone, and so he just fired off a text about having to think and being off the radar for a few days.  _I’ll still check my e-mail though_ he wrote, and added his semi-secret address.

The first thing he needed to do was decide if he wanted to stay with Blaine.

As much as he felt insane for thinking about it, he had loved Blaine for so long. They’d been together for a year, without fights, which was quite an achievement for a teenage couple, and Kurt had fallen in love long before that.

There was also the fact that Blaine was his best friend, and breaking up most meant losing that as well. (Not just because Blaine might not want to stay friends, should Kurt end things, but because if Kurt ended their relationship it would be because he decided that Blaine’s behavior was unforgivable.)

Yes, what Blaine had done – and allowed Sebastian to do – hurt, but was it unforgivable? Couples overcame obstacles and stupid issues all the time, didn’t they, and surely if they were actually meant to be – as Kurt had believed all along – then they could fix this too.

It would mean a lot of work, but surely they could do it.

In the end, what it came down to was one question: was he really ready to give up on Blaine and their relationship? Just a few months ago he’d been willing, eager in fact, to get engaged when he’d seen the ring box in Blaine’s hand and thought his boyfriend was proposing. (Stupid, yes, but. He’d been in love, and there  **was** the option of a long engagement.)

And there his thoughts ran into another obstacle. Christmas. He hadn’t minded that Blaine’s gift for him had been handmade from gum wrappers – wouldn’t have minded even without the money aspect – because he’d loved the sentiment behind the gift. He’d looked at it and loved the effort his boyfriend had put in. Calling it – or Blaine – cheap had never crossed his mind.

Now however... His brain skipped back to the messages he’d just read, flashing on the one where Sebastian had thanked Blaine for  **his** Christmas present, and he couldn’t help but wonder if the curly-haired boy had had money for  **that** gift.

Somehow he thought the answer would be “yes”. (After all, during the last year and a half Blaine had never been without money except for that one time.)

No. Maybe the question wasn’t if Kurt was ready to give up. Maybe it should be whether or not Blaine was willing to fight. And maybe Kurt already knew the answer to that one.

Fighting for their relationship would mean so much more than Kurt had imagined, and the two of them actually talking – as opposed to singing, thank you David – would only be the start. The couples counseling Kurt had thought about before going through Blaine’s messages would be a must, and probably some one-on-one counseling as well.

And they would both have to come clean, about  **everything** . Kurt would have to admit to snooping. Blaine would have to admit to whatever it was he’d had going on with Sebastian.

Most importantly though, Kurt realized, Blaine would have to apologize. For calling him a cheater. For doing something similar but so, so much more incriminating himself. For being a hypocrite. And while they were at it, Kurt though bitterly, how about Blaine apologizing for Tony? (Yes, he was still upset – how could he not be, when it was his NYADA dream at stake?) Or maybe for what had happened in the parking lot at Scandals...

Kurt swallowed. He’d thought he was over that, but apparently he wasn’t. When it had happened he’d been so desperate for things to be good again that he’d accepted Blaine’s apology without even thinking twice, and then shoved the whole experience into the back of his mind. Now though...now his brain pulled it out again, happily pointing out that Blaine hadn’t  **really** apologized. Not for any of the things that mattered, such as not listening when Kurt had said no.

And there, he realized, was his answer. He needed Blaine to apologize, to do so completely and without reservations, and Blaine...never had. Not once. He needed Blaine to be completely honest about Sebastian, and whatever other dark secrets he might be hiding, and he didn’t think Blaine would.

The outcome of his relationship basically came down to those two things – and he couldn’t trust his boyfriend to deliver.

Well. That was it then.

 

Now that he knew what he was going to do about Blaine it was time to figure out what to do about everything else.

Going back to school right then was  **not** an option. He knew himself well enough to realize he’d only get himself into trouble if he did. He would be cornered by Blaine, or one of the other New Direction members, and explode – maybe even enough to get suspended.

There was also the fact that he had an audition to prepare for, one that he simply  **had to** nail, and focusing while getting hounded by everyone would be impossible.

The prospect of  **not** being hounded didn’t even cross his mind – not as a viable option. He knew his friends too well for that.

Part of him envied David. Homeschooling had been on his mind as an option on several occasions, but this was the first time he’d really wanted it. Honestly, the only thing stopping him from actually switching right then was the fact that there was only two months left of high school.

It would be more trouble than Blaine Anderson was worth.

Things would have been so much easier if Blaine had just stayed at Dalton, he thought, cursing himself for ever mentioning transfer in the first place. If he’d only kept his mouth shut!

And then he snorted.

Because no matter what story Blaine was telling people – the one where he transferred for himself, or the one where he did it for Kurt – the truth was that the ex-Warbler had very much done it for selfish reasons. It had always been obvious to Kurt that his ex (and yes, he was looking at the boy that way now even if Blaine didn’t know it was over yet) had seen the options of trading the Warblers for the New Directions – Kurt had counted on it even, when first bringing the subject up.

The New Directions were a lot more likely to go to Nationals than the Warblers, if only because of small-minded jurors that felt boys singing together was “too gay” (Blaine knew as well as he did that this was what had cost them Regionals the year before). A strong voice could, theoretically, score a solo at Nationals with relative ease. And for someone who could afford to wait a year for the spotlight... Yes, from that point of view the New Directions definitely looked better than the Warblers.

And Kurt had known that. Had even known his chances of getting a competition solo would grow even more minuscule with Blaine there as an option. He just hadn’t cared that much. Clearly he’d been an idiot, but. It came with the territory, right? Everyone got more or less stupid when in love.

By the time he’d realized exactly how badly it would impact him – during the auditions for West Side Story – it had been too late, and he’d just resigned himself to being delegated to the background. Had comforted himself that at least he got Blaine out of it.

Yeah, right.

Kurt found himself wishing that Blaine had stayed at Dalton for another reason as well. Judging from the evidence his relationship wouldn’t have survived for long had Blaine been there, in contact with Sebastian Smythe every day – and that would have been fine. It might have saved him both regrets and heartache – and then he would have had the support of his friends.

 

Getting permission from his dad to stay home from school for a few days – while not technically needed, with him being 18, it made for less fuss – was relatively easy. He’d already laid the groundwork with his earlier call, and all it took was a few well phrased truths. He didn’t feel well. He had a headache, and had thrown up. He absolutely  **could not** afford to get sick this close to his audition.

It was only the first step though. Still, it made the next one a hell of a lot easier.

Rounding up everything Blaine-related was also relatively easy – yet oh so hard at the same time. There were memories attached to everything, and most of those were good.

**Had been** good, at least, because with his new knowledge everything was tainted. That didn’t change the ache in his heart.

Still, soon enough he had two sorted piles on his bed. One contained things to get rid off, and the other things to return to Blaine. The first he threw into a box and shoved underneath his bed for later (suppressing thoughts of taking them out back, dousing them in gasoline and setting them on fire, right there and then) while the second was packed into a bag Blaine had left behind.

On the top went the bow tie ring.

Part of him wanted to destroy it, rip it to pieces and  **burn** it, but the more realistic part of him knew returning it was smarter. It just might be the only way to force the reality of the breakup through Blaine’s thick skull (and its gel casing). Because Kurt wasn’t just returning gifts and left behind items – he was making a statement.

Kurt Hummel was  **done** with Blaine Anderson and his shitty promises.

“ _I promise to always listen to you, even when you’re wrong.”_

Yeah, right. Kurt snorted. Listening had never been one of Blaine’s stronger sides, not unless it was something he wanted to hear, but Kurt had though that might change once they got together.

He’d been willing to accept the boy’s behavior without changes, though. He’d been so very much in love, and so happy (and grateful) to finally have someone love him back) that he would have accepted a lot more than that. And, it wasn’t like he was without flaws.

So he’d accepted Blaine as he was – as Kurt himself wanted to be accepted.

It hadn’t quite worked out that way though.

As for the “even when you’re wrong” part, well. The less said about  **that** crap, the better. Because it  **was** crap – Blaine had proved that beyond a doubt over the past days.

And to think he’d actually fallen for it. He’d wanted to, he supposed, had held such high hopes that Blaine would trust in him as he did in Blaine.

It was time for a new regime, so to speak. His days of leaning on Blaine, allowing himself to be lead by Blaine, were over. It was time for Kurt Hummel to take charge, and take charge he would.  _Just you watch out..._


	4. Chapter 4

 

_So how exactly do you go about a breakup?_

Kurt had no idea. Oh, he’d seen plenty of examples over the last three years, but none of them were exactly  **good** examples. When it came to his friends practically every single one of them had messed up in that department, and Kurt... Well, he wanted to do better.

Not that he would mind Blaine feeling at least a little of the hurt he had been experiencing, but he also wanted to be a better person. He wasn’t always, but sinking to that level? That way lay disaster.

So, ignoring every single one of the breakups he’d witnessed, what should he do? He wasn’t going back to school Monday, no matter what, and maybe not until Friday – if he could get away with it. Should he wait until then and talk to Blaine in person?

He imagined the scenario and shuddered. No. Blaine would pull out the kicked puppy routine, and make a scene, dragging all their friends into it, and just. No. There had been enough airing of dirty laundry, thank you, and he wasn’t eager to give Blaine more material to work with.

Plus, it was kind of cruel to leave Blaine hanging until then, when Kurt  **knew** he wasn’t going to stay with the boy – and it would only give everyone more reason to call him a bad boyfriend. Yeah, right. Because clearly  **Kurt** was the bad boyfriend in this scenario.

So, should he go the Tina route and text the breakup? That had worked for her, in a way, but Kurt didn’t think it was right. He hadn’t approved of it back then, even if he hadn’t called her out on it, and that meant he couldn’t very well do it himself. Not without coming off as a huge hypocrite anyway, and that was something he wasn’t too keen on.

That left out sending an e-mail as well – and considering Blaine’s penchant for saving those that just might be for the best anyway – and calling meant subjecting himself to Blaine’s victim spiel.

Huh. That...didn’t leave him much. In fact, as far as he could see that didn’t really leave him anything, did it? Except... Blaine had sung “It’s Not Right, But It’s Okay”. That was a breakup song. So, he  **could** use that. Take a page out of Blaine’s play book and act oblivious.

Oh, that just might work.

He’d return Blaine’s things, call himself single and when confronted he’d just say that he had taken Blaine’s behavior to mean a breakup. Perfect. That way Blaine would have to do at least some backtracking if he wanted to look good when whining – because it was Blaine, there  **would** be whining – and while it wouldn’t influence Kurt’s decision it could be entertaining.

He didn’t want to wait though, because past experiences had proven that nipping things in the bud worked best with the gleeks. That meant using Finn, he decided. He’d wait until Sunday evening and place the bag with Blaine’s things outside of Finn’s door with a note asking him to return it.

Finn would do it too, even if it’d only be because he’d have no idea what kind of errand he was really doing. Perfect. That would take care of that,  **and** give everyone some time to get things out of their systems before Kurt himself returned to school. So, Blaine would get his things during Glee Monday morning, Kurt would update his relationship status on facebook (and yes, that felt ridiculous, but) about that time as well, and that would be it.

“Klaine” would officially be over and Kurt Hummel would be a free man.

It sounded like sweet music to his ears.

Speaking of music, it was time for him to get to work on his audition piece.

 

Finding videos online of his new song wasn’t hard, and he drank in every detail of the different performances. He was on the fence about recreating any of them in detail, yet at the same time the idea was tempting. This was NYADA on the line, and standing there meekly while singing didn’t seem to be the right way to go, not when ‘DA’ stood for ‘Dramatic Arts’.

Well, Kurt could deliver dramatic. And he was pretty sure he could rock those pants too.

Avoiding Finn for the weekend wasn’t exactly an accomplishment, not when his stepbrother mostly only came home to sleep. With Carole away and Kurt refusing to leave his room the quarterback was left to his own devices for food, and as that meant sandwiches, pop-tarts and glue-like mac’n’cheese, well. Apparently even vegan food topped a weekend of that, because where else would Finn go except Rachel’s?

Kurt didn’t mind at all. Being home alone meant freedom, and he used what hours he had of that fully. When he wasn’t working on his audition, or his homework, he spent time talking to David on Skype. Whenever he heard the distinctive sounds of Finn coming back home he would make sure he was inside his bedroom, lock the door, put on headphones and catch up on shows. It wasn’t ideal, but it worked.

It was peaceful, quiet and exactly what he needed..

Of course, he was going to have to pay for that later as it came courtesy of ignoring every single person in his life except for his father and David. He’d turned his phone back on, sending all calls not from those two numbers straight to voice mail, and promptly deleted the multitude of texts. All of them came from various members of the New Directions, with everyone except Sam and Mike chiming in, and none of the few he actually read were the least bit supportive.

Texts from Blaine, once again, shone with their absence. Kurt wasn’t at all surprised, nor was he unhappy about it. That particular shitstorm would hit soon enough – he might as well enjoy himself while the silence lasted.

Once Finn went to bed Sunday night Kurt took the note he’d written, explaining that he’d be staying home sick, and could Finn please give the bag to Blaine for him, and placed it and said bag strategically outside of Finn’s room. There would be no way for his stepbrother to miss it, not even if he had one of his less conscious mornings.

The next morning he listened to the usual sounds of Finn getting ready, and once the car left the driveway he peeked out. No bag.  _Perfect._ There was, however, a note taped to his door with a scribbled “Okay” and that meant step one was completed. Now all he needed to do was wait.

He was halfway through breakfast when his phone alerted him to a new text. Blaine. He opened it, curious about his ex’s reaction, and snorted at the confused words.  _“Why did Finn give me a bag? Why is your ring in it? Kurt?”_ Yeah, because clearly there were so many explanations for that one. Why go for the obvious one?

Well, the next step should bring the message home, he guessed and logged onto facebook. Updating his relationship status to single only took a few seconds. On a whim he also unfriended Blaine, meaning that his security settings should keep that particular corner of his life relatively Blaine (and blame) free.

Huh. Why had he agonized so much over this again? Because so far breaking up with someone wasn’t as hard as he’d thought. Or maybe it was just the fact that he absolutely didn’t care any longer that made it feel that way.

Finn came home from school furious. Kurt hadn’t really expected anything else, and so he’d made sure to barricade himself in. To someone not him, not knowing the whole story and the reasoning behind the act, using his stepbrother to deliver Blaine’s things had probably seemed more than a little callous.

It took 40 minutes of banging on Kurt’s bedroom door and screaming at it for Finn to give up.

Kurt used the time to watch an episode of Torchwood.

 

Come Thursday his reprieve was up. With his audition the next day he’d known he would have to go back, but... Kurt really didn’t want to give up his peaceful existence to return to the screaming chaos that was McKinley. Even one more day would have been heavenly, even though they had Glee on Fridays. Still, only having to go through one day of bitching before his audition would have been amazing. He thought about David, who was safe at home, and sighed with envy. The circumstances surrounding David’s homeschooling might have been far from ideal, but the fact that he didn’t have to bother with anything but studying? Made Kurt green with envy.

He’d skyped with David for at least an hour every day he’d been home, and talked about everything. It had even been good for his schoolwork, as David was a lot better than him at everything math related. If he’d only know that back during the Bully Whip days, because he would totally have taken advantage.

However with his dad insisting that he either return to school or visit a doctor he didn’t exactly have an option, and so school it was. And it was proving to be every bit as irritating as he’d feared.

He barely made it through the door before the questions – and the shaming – started. Mercedes was the first one, spotting him walking to his locker, and she was furious. On Blaine’s behalf. Because it wasn’t like she was supposed to be  **his** friend, now was it?

Listening to her berating him for hurting Blaine, for being insensitive, for not talking to her... It all hurt. But when she started on his “cheating” the hurt was quickly replaced by anger. Really? She was going to lecture him about cheating, and how wrong it was? Like  she had any room to talk.

“Mercedes? I’m not trying to be rude here, but this? Is none of your business, so butt out. Okay?”

And before she could come up with something else to hurt or anger him he walked away.  _ She didn’t even  _ _**like** _ _ Blaine! _ When he’d first met Blaine the year before Mercedes had been suspicious, and less than supportive. Part of it had been, he knew, about protecting him from making the same mistake Rachel had with Jesse St James. But the rest... The rest had been about jealousy. Mercedes might have been over her crush on him, but she hadn’t been ready to completely let him go. She also hadn’t liked the fact that someone with so few prospects had gotten a boyfriend while she was still single.

Petty, yes, but true.

She’d gotten over her issues with Blaine later – but like with Finn Kurt sometimes found himself wishing she hadn’t gotten over them quite as well. He would have liked to be able to trust that the girl he had loved so fiercely – even though it hadn’t been in the way she once had wished – would back him up.

People kept approaching him throughout the day – when they could find him, as he quickly took to hiding – and he kept telling them to back off. It worked, to a degree, as they mostly left him alone after one try. Unfortunately them not talking to him about Blaine extended to them not talking to him at all.

The only two he didn’t see was Rachel and Blaine. In the latter’s case he suspected it was about allowing the others to “soften him up”, to make Kurt more amenable to whatever bullshit Blaine would finally spew at him in an attempt to make Kurt take the blame for everything and beg for forgiveness.  _Hmmm. Maybe I should tone it down a bit_ _. _ Not that he didn’t think that it was an apt description, it was just...a little too bitchy even for him.

As for not having to deal with Rachel... That was most likely just luck.

His luck ran out Friday morning, just as he’d known it would. They had Glee first period, and that meant facing everyone together for the first time since Blaine’s little “serenade”. He was met by a mix of glared and disappointed looks. And, of course, Blaine’s wounded puppy face number 3, the one Kurt hated the most. It didn’t just radiate hurt, oh no. It also practically stunk of self-righteousness, hinting at how even though Blaine couldn’t understand how someone would treat him so horribly he’d still forgive them, because he was a better person.

Yeah. He was being bitchy alright. He suspected it had something to do with the fact that he’d suppressed all negative thoughts about Blaine for so long, and now his subconscious was getting back with a vengeance.

“Kurt”

“Yes, Mr Schue?” Huh. The teacher practically never called on him, unless it was time for him to perform, or receive a lecture. It shouldn’t be either of those, not when he’d been out sick (at least as far as they knew) so what did the man want?

“Are you ready to start us off?”

“I’m sorry? Am I supposed to perform today? Because I checked my e-mail, and there was nothing about a new assignment.”

The usual order was for new assignments to be handed out Mondays, with performances Wednesday and Friday, with the following Monday as a backup if needed. (A.k.a. whenever Rachel derailed their entire schedule, a.k.a. pretty much every single week.) However, they weren’t always given something, and Kurt had thought (hoped) that this time it had been so they could start preparing for Nationals. Obviously he’d been wrong.

“We decided to prolong Whitney week. There were a few who wanted to perform again, and you never performed your song.”

Noooo... Because he’d been home, officially sick. He hadn’t expected it to be a big deal, or really any deal at all, since people were allowed to miss out on assignments all the time, and not just because of sickness. Clearly that didn’t apply to him. Of course not. Because that would mean for Mr Schue to actually be fair, and that would have to be one of the signs of the apocalypse.

“Of course, if you’ll just give me a few minutes, I’ll–”

“Oh, don’t worry, Brad already has your music.”

He startled. Brad had his music? How? He hadn’t given the man any sheet music, hadn’t even completely decided –  _ Oh. Right. _ Kurt felt his eyes narrow, and his metaphorical claws come out. Someone – or someone **s** – had interfered. As usual.

Thanking his habit of being over-prepared he pulled out his Glee folder and walked over to the piano to exchange a few words with Brad. The pianist had been given music, alright, just not  **Kurt’s** music. Not even close. He forced down a growl as he stared at the sheet music on the stand, neatly labeled “I Have Nothing”. Because clearly his life wasn’t complete unless he was groveling.

Trying really hard not to take out his anger on the wrong person Kurt took a deep breath and switched out the music, handing over the one for the song  **he** had chosen, ignoring the murmurs in the room. Lucky for him that Brad knew how to sightread.

One more deep breath and he turned to face the group.

“This song is very special to me. It was my mother’s favorite, and we used to sing it together.”

Maggie Hummel had loved music, and singing – even if she hadn’t had an ounce of talent. She’d still sung, every single day. She’d sung along with the radio and the movies, had sung him to sleep and had drawn him into duets – rehearsed or impromptu – all the time. Her love for music had been a gift she’d offered her son, and he’d embraced it fully.

This truly had been her favorite, and for a while they’d sung it daily. It had been playing at her funeral as well, requested by his dad. Kurt had never been able to hear it, or sing it, since that day without hearing her voice joining him. He devoutly hoped he never would. It was painful, yes, but it was a good pain. Every single note of the song was connected to memories filled with love – and those should never be allowed to fade away.

[“ _Each day I live...”_](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=96aAx0kxVSA)

He didn’t know, and he probably never would, but he suspected that it had been her unofficial anthem, related to the cancer that had been slowly killing her. She’d made the best of every day, had filled them with love and laughter, and had given her husband and son so much. He loved his dad with everything he had, but his mom? She was the one that had  **made** him, had shaped both her Hummel men into who they were.

“ _Give me one moment in time_

_When I’m more than I thought I could be_

_When all of my dreams are a heartbeat away_

_And the answers are all up to me”_

He allowed the music to swallow him up, allowed his voice to soar as the song became his wish for the future.

“ _Then in that one moment of time_

_I will, I will be_

_I will be free”_

When he came down from the high of performing he was hit by exactly how fitting the song was. His dreams  **were** just a heartbeat away – or rather one audition – and everything really was up to him now. It was time to ignore the pettiness of the New Directions and refocus on his next performance – one that was infinitely more important.

 

Of course, it wasn’t going to be that easy. Once he walked out of the choir room Rachel cornered him. Nothing could get her to back down, or for that matter allow him to get more than a word in edgewise, and finally Kurt lost it.

Taking a step forward he held up a hand – placing his palm less than an inch from her mouth – and shushed her.

“Rachel? I’m not going to talk to you about this, at all. And I have absolutely no desire to listen to you talk at me about it either. What I am going to do is to focus on my audition, which just so happens to be in just five hours. I suggest you do the same, instead of sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

Her eyes went wide, and then narrowed, the color rising on her cheeks. For a second he even thought she’d resort to stomping her foot, or maybe even slapping him. Neither was beyond the realm of possibility, not with Rachel Berry. She didn’t though, just huffed and jerked her head sharply at him.

“Fine. Be that way. But don’t come crying to me if Blaine decides he’s had it with waiting for you to return to your senses. And don’t expect me to help you with your song either. Good luck replacing me.”

And then she stormed away. Kurt just looked at her stiff back and swishing skirt with a bitter smile. It was always good, he supposed, to know where you stood with people, who would have your back no matter what, and who wouldn’t. As for her backing out of helping him at practically the last minute... If he’d been actually relying on her, instead of just meaning to have her there as support and well, props, then he really would have been in trouble.

_Good thing I changed my audition piece then, isn’t it?_

It was such a Rachel thing to do too, to storm out and abandon people who counted on her, all while seeing herself as irreplaceable. Maybe he really was better off without her, in every sense of the word. Well, he’d show her. He’d show all of them. He was going to walk out on that stage, and he was going to  **own** it.

 

He stood in the spotlight, basked in it, reveled in the feeling of knowing he was about to deliver the performance of a lifetime. The moment was here, and it was his.

“My name is Kurt Hummel, and I will be performing ‘Not the Boy Next Door’ from ‘The Boy from Oz’.”

_~ TBC ~_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kurt's song is "One Moment In Time" by Whitney Houston - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=96aAx0kxVSA


	5. Chapter 5

Rachel had bombed her audition. Rachel Berry had completely, utterly and totally choked. Nope, saying it again didn’t make it feel any more real. Kurt couldn’t believe it, and he’d been there to witness it.

Oh, he hadn’t meant to. Once he’d finished his song and accepted Carmen Tibideaux’s commentary he’d hurried off stage and grabbed his things, meaning to get out as soon as possible. Preferably without Blaine stopping him. Because yes, of course Blaine was sitting in the audience, next to Finn and Mr Schue.

There had been...something in Blaine’s face that Kurt didn’t know how to interpret. Part of it was, he was sure, about the fact that Kurt had changed his song. Maybe even about how he’d looked, taking the stage in those gold pants, dancing in the spotlight, and going all out. Whatever it was... Well, it was unlikely to bode well for Kurt though. At least if Blaine got his way. He had no intention of letting that happen.

He’d gotten as far as the auditorium doors when Rachel had faltered, and come to a dead stop. It hadn’t seemed possible, so he’d turned around, certain his ears were deceiving him, and watched in horror as the scene unfolded in front of him. Rachel  **had** forgotten the lyrics. And then she’d done it again.

After three years of Glee, where Rachel always had a song ready, always managed to find a reason to perform, he’d come to view her in a slightly unrealistic way, he knew it. That she would forget the lyrics to any song was unbelievable, and for it to be a song she’d practiced for over a decade? It didn’t happen, okay. It just didn’t. Except it had, and now apparently Rachel’s world was crashing down.

Madam Tibideaux had been less than graceful in her dismissal, but he understood why. If you couldn’t manage an audition, how could you be expected to handle NYADA or Broadway?

And, oh god, it made him feel like such an awful person, but he was relieved. Yes, Rachel had been his friend, and part of him  **ached** for her, but he needed this. No matter how horrible it made him sound, Rachel choking was a good thing for Kurt Hummel. First of all there was the simple fact that no matter how much he’d rocked his audition – and Carmen Thibedeaux had said so herself, had complimented him – he didn’t have much on his CV. In comparison with Rachel, well, if it came down to the two of them he was afraid he’d lose. Not because he thought she was more talented than him, because he thought they were fairly equal, but because she was so much more traditional and had gotten so much spotlight.

He would never have wished for her to do badly, but at the same time he couldn’t help looking out for himself first.

Second... Choking meant Rachel would be off his back for a while. Finn too, as he would focus on whatever his fiancée wanted and needed to the exclusion of everything else. Maybe Blaine would as well. With a little luck he could get weeks of peace from this.

Dinner that night felt strange. He’d been on his own for a week, eating at his desk, and here he was sitting at the dining table with his family. Or rather, with his dad and Carole. Finn was over at the Berry’s, apparently trying to convince Rachel that choking wasn’t the end of the world. Of course, Kurt could understand how she might feel that way seeing as she’d been so insistent than neither of them apply to another school, that it was NYADA or nothing.

It was peaceful, a normal Friday night, with them chatting about Kurt’s audition – Burt preening every bit as much as Kurt, glowing with happiness over Madam Tibideaux’s praise – and Burt’s political work. There was warmth, and love, and happiness, and Kurt was once more reminder of not only how lucky he was, but of how much he’d miss this when he moved out.

Still. Having his dad home for the weekend was a mixed blessing. He missed his dad so much during the weeks, and even more so those weekends when Burt’s duties kept him in D.C., and every minute they got to spend together was treasured. But right now there was an undertone to everything, darkening the shine of Kurt’s happiness.

Things might be happy and peaceful right then, but it wouldn’t last. Not when he knew Finn was bound to blab about Blaine and Chandler any second.

Oh, there was a chance, a small one, that Finn would be too wrapped up in Rachel to get around to it but Kurt wasn’t holding out much hope. And even if he got his wish for the rest of  **this** weekend? There was the next one. Because Finn  **would** bring it up. He might have started the year resenting Blaine, but these days he was one of the boy’s firmest supporters – rivaled only by Rachel. Kurt himself? Had always had too realistic a view of the ex-Warbler to compete.

Saturday morning however brought the talk Kurt had dreaded. Oh, it was disguised as a father-son bonding slash car tune up at the empty garage, but Kurt knew what it was really about. No use trying to delude himself – that would only hurt more.

“So, I heard that you and Blaine broke up. Want to talk about it?”

No, not really, but he didn’t think his dad was going to accept that answer. Not when Kurt  **knew** Finn had to have been spreading Blaine propaganda to their parents. The next words out of his dad’s mouth confirmed it.

“Because according to Finn you cheated, and then proceeded to treat Blaine like crap. Now, that doesn’t sound like the son I raised, so I thought I’d ask for your side of the story.”

_That...dirty rat bastard!_ So the option of not talking was out the window, fine, but he wasn’t going to tell his dad everything, just enough. Oh, and then he’d be planning his revenge on Finn.

“What you’re saying is that when I was asleep last night Finn took the opportunity to trash-talk me? Great. Good to know he’s willing to take time out of his busy schedule to interfere in my private life.”

“Kurt...”

“ **Dad**. It wasn’t his place to tell you **anything**. Especially considering he doesn’t actually know anything, he’s just taking Blaine’s word for it. Yes, Blaine and I are over. No, we’re not getting back together. And no, I didn’t cheat. I would never, and you know that. They should all know that.”

Because in the end, that was what was hurting the most. Not that his boyfriend –  _ex_ – had believed it, but that his friends had. They, even more than Blaine, were supposed to believe in him, to back him up and defend him. And yet the closest any of them had come was silence.

“What happened is that I ran into someone, we started talking, traded numbers and started texting. Blaine found those texts while going through my phone and decided it was cheating.” No sugarcoating anything, because this was his dad, his biggest supporter, and damn if Kurt was going to be anything but honest and himself when talking to him.

“It wasn’t, I was just talking to someone, but Blaine doesn’t see it that way. So I thought it over and decided I was better off without Blaine.”

“Why? I mean, it’s your life and your call, I just thought Blaine made you happy.”

“I thought so too, dad, I did. But he doesn’t anymore. He broke his promises to me, and that’s a big deal in my book.” Seeing his dad’s raised eyebrow he clarified: “He promised me he would always listen, and that he would always support and defend me, even if I was wrong. Pretty words, but as it turns out there was no substance behind them.”

Then again, wasn’t that the ongoing theme of Blaine’s promises?

“In fact, instead of listening to me he called me out in glee club, which was also breaking a promise. Add the fact that apparently he felt there were two sets of rules in our relationship, one for me and one for him? No thanks.

“And with that on top of all the other issues with our relationship, little things I’ve forgiven and tried to forget but that still hurt... I decided I didn’t want that any longer. I’ve had it with having to bury my issues just to have a boyfriend.”

And it felt so good to say it out loud, to just unload and not  **care** , not have to try and be diplomatic. He felt lighter, in body and mind, and held back a smile. Freedom and honesty felt so  **good** .

“He wanted different rules for the two of you?”

“Well, he never said that, at least, you know, not using those words, but that’s what it sounded like to me. Me texting a gay boy who admires me is cheating, but him texting a gay boy who wants to fuck him is not. To me that sounds like hypocrisy, but.” He shrugged.

He seemed to be the only one thinking that though. Every single one of their friends knew about Blaine and Sebastian talking at least – the fact that Blaine had managed to blab about their set list had ensured that – and yet none of them had called him out on it. In fact, it seemed to completely have slipped their minds.

Blaine hadn’t even experienced any real fallout because of it, even if that might have been thanks to the tainted slushie and the following surgery. Still. It made Kurt more than a little angry – and hurt – that they were willing to let that slide, but threw themselves on the “Kurt is a cheater” train.

“I’m going to have to agree. I would have expected better of him, really. Not that he hasn’t messed up before, because I know he has. And with how private you tend to keep things, well, if **I** know he screwed up, then there has to be a lot more times that you haven’t told me – if anyone – about. I just thought he had to have gotten smarter – because why else would you have stayed with him for a year?”

And that...was a good question.

“I was in love with him. He told me he loved me. I thought that was worth a lot of forgiving.”

“Yeah, it is, but kiddo? That’s supposed to go both ways. If it doesn’t, then it isn’t love.”

And as he was gathered into his dad’s arms Kurt thought that summed things up pretty good. Love was supposed to go both ways. Things with Blaine...too often hadn’t.

 

_Of course Rachel leaving me alone didn’t last long._ Kurt sighed. Few things did, in his experience – few  **good** things at least – but he’d hoped this one would have held out for at least a week. It looked like it hadn’t even lasted the weekend.

Rachel had apparently decided to refocus, and devote all of the energy previously reserved for getting into NYADA to getting “Klaine” back together. It was killing him – or rather: it was making him want to kill.

It also made Kurt have one more reason to be grateful for Rachel’s choking as it meant that he probably wouldn’t have to deal with her next year. Provided, of course, that he got in, but he felt more positive about his chances than ever before. Strange how breaking up with his boyfriend had made him feel stronger and more secure in himself than he had in a long time.

It was Tuesday lunch, and Kurt was once again resorting to hiding in the darkest corner of the library. He was reaching his limit, and fast. Unless something happened, soon, he’d wring Rachel’s neck.

_To: David_

_From: Kurt_

_I don’t know if I overestimated Rachel’s devotion towards Broadway and NYADA, or underestimated her unrivaled potential for driving me insane._

_From: David_

_To: Kurt_

_What happened this time? Wait, sounds like a long story. Wanna come over after school and tell me about it? I have cheesecake and news... ;-)_

_To: David_

_From: Kurt_

_There’s no need to bribe me, you know (but I’ll definitely take the cake!) See you in a few hours._

There really was no need for David to try and bribe him – Kurt would have come over anyway. The promise of news, along with the light tone of David’s message, would have ensured that. And even if there had been no actual reason, well, there was still the offer of friendship – and for that, Kurt would have done a lot more than just driving across town.

Strange how they’d bonded – how they’d gotten to this, when you looked at the disaster of junior year. Strange, but no less welcome for that.

 

The rest of the day passed as the ones before – with Kurt utilizing every bit of sneakiness he’d learned over the years to avoid his so-called friends, his step-brother, Mr Schue and his ex. He knew their schedules like the back of his hand, making it easier, yet the same was true in reverse. Sooner or later, he knew, he’d run out of luck and be cornered outside of Glee.

Strange, with how much he detested seeing the various couples’ fights play out in front of an audience, but he’d prefer getting confronted there. At least in the choir room there would be an adult putting some effort into keeping things contained. Out here? He feared it would be vicious.

 

His luck did run out, and that same day too. When he reached his car after classes Blaine popped up from where he’d been (hiding) waiting. Kurt just sighed, and tried to leave without engaging in an argument with the other boy. He was not in the mood for defending himself from any more whiny accusations. He was stopped by a hand on his arm, which caused him to turn around and level a glare at his ex while shaking the hand off. Blaine restraining him physically was  **not** okay.

Of course, as seemed to be the norm these days, Blaine acted like there was nothing the matter, and started whining.

“Kurt! Come on, Kurt, you have to talk to me.”

_Do I? According to whom, exactly?_ Because Kurt was fine with not talking to Blaine, had been ever since he’d decided he was done, and he was pretty sure he’d stay fine with it.

“You know I usually love your drama, but this isn’t cute any longer, it’s just childish.”

“What’s so childish, Blaine? That I returned your things instead of throwing them out or something? I would have thought that would be the opposite of childish.”

“Breaking up with me like this, over **nothing** , I–”

“Stop. Okay, just...don’t. **You** were the one to sing me a breakup song, telling me to ‘return my key’ – which I did, by the way – after snooping and calling me a cheater. Oh, and don’t forget refusing to talk to me. Was I supposed to take that as us still being a couple? The way I see it **you** were the one to end things between us – I just didn’t fight you on it.”

Oh, he’d been fairly certain all along that Blaine hadn’t actually meant to break up with him – just humiliate him, and make him come crawling, begging for forgiveness – but actually admitting that wouldn’t serve his purposes.

“I didn’t break up with you! I might have chosen a bad song, but I didn’t... I was just–”

“Embarrassing me in front of all my friends? Shaming me? Oh, okay, so that makes it alright then, does it? In that case I guess I was the one to end it after all. And don’t kid yourself, Blaine, it’s over. **We** are over.”

He watched as the other boy’s face went from puppyish hurt and confusion to anger, watched it contort as Blaine prepared to go off on him and decided that enough was enough.

“Just, please. Don’t. I don’t want to fight, I just want to get through what remains of my high school days in relative peace. I’d appreciate it if you could be mature enough about this to let me.”

He took advantage of having cut off Blaine, at least temporary, got in his car and drove away.

 

By the time he arrived at the Karofsky house he’d calmed some and put the confrontation with Blaine behind him. Maybe he should have been more shaken, more effected, but the truth was that he’d already let go of the relationship, and everything connected to it. What he’d found on Blaine’s computer had changed things – had ended them – and there was no going back.

It was possible, he thought, that he’d taken the arguing with his friends harder that the fight – and breakup – with Blaine. He knew he’d expected more of them – and that did not sound good. At all.

David looked at him and didn’t say anything, wisely, just showed him to the table. A pot of tea stood ready next to an awesome looking cheesecake that made Kurt’s mouth water. Empty calories be damned, but there was no way he was missing out on that cake. If it tasted even half as good as it looked he’d even take two slices, and smile through the extra exercise. (The first bite told him he might not be able to stop at two.)

“So... What did Berry do this time then?”

“She– argh. Remember what I told you Friday, about her totally bombing her audition? Well, I thought that might get her out of my hair for a while. After all, she’s been even more focused on New York than I have. While I would have expected her to pull out of the ‘my life is over’ phase sooner or later, I also would have thought it would last longer than this.

“And I really, really would have thought that bombing her college audition – to the only college she applied to too, I might add – would take precedence over trying to meddle in my breakup.”

His hands were gripping too tight around the mug and he eased up a little. No point in causing damage on Rachel Berry’s account, after all.

“She what? Are you serious?”

“Oh yes. I thought she was being difficult last week, but she’s even worse now! It’s ridiculous, okay? She was a wreck – hell, her dads actually sat shiva! Sorry, that’s–”

“I know what it is. And I’ve got to say, I find that more than a little offensive that they did that because she forgot a **song**. That’s...not how it should be.”

_Oh_ . Kurt had never thought about whether or not David was religious – it wasn’t something he thought about with anyone, truly – but it seemed he might be. It didn’t matter, not unless he tried to force Kurt into believing though, and so he just let it go. If David wanted to talk religion he’d have to bring it up himself.

“Oh, I agree. I might not be religious myself,” best get that out, in case David cared, “but I do believe in treating the rites like they matter. But, to be honest, Rachel didn’t get this way on her own. Her dads have had...an interesting approach when it comes to raising her, shall we say. Still. When you let something become that important, it should take some time to get over it, right? Except Rachel went straight to hounding me about getting back with Blaine.”

The first call had come Sunday, and been followed by a barrage of texts once she’d realized he wasn’t picking up or calling her back.

“She was lying in wait for me when I came to school yesterday, and no, I’m not kidding. And she’s been practically stalking me since. Not just the usual ‘I’m your friend and you’re going to talk to me whether you want to or not’ stalking either, but full on Jacob ben Israel level. If I, as a guy, behaved that way towards a girl I would have had the police after me. I actually have to hide when I’m not in classes, otherwise she’s there at once, telling me what a bad boyfriend I am, and how ashamed of myself I should be. Oh, and handing out tips for songs I could sing as an apology.”

David’s eyebrows flew up.

“Seriously, does no one in your group believe in actually **talking** about shit? I mean, I know I said you and your boyfriend, sorry, ex, needed to talk not sing, but I was kind of joking.” 

“Yeah, well. Glee. That’s what we do, apparently. Or **don’t** do, as it was. We gossip, listen to rumors instead of talking to the people involved, sing it out instead of talk... And to be fair, it works, sometimes.”

When it worked it was easy, comforting, not having to actually say the words making everything so much more manageable, but when it didn’t... Oh, what a mess it became, and how quickly.

“I guess none of us has learned yet when singing works, and when we have to use actual words instead. All of us are, in our own way, more or less damaged, I think, and talking about the important things isn’t something we’ve learned to do well yet. Speaking of which, you had news?” It was a bad lead-in, and he knew it, but he’d had it with talking about Rachel Berry. Unless... “Unless, of course, you have some great tip for me on how to get rid of her, **without** landing myself in jail?”

“Yeah, right. Because if **you** can’t come up with one, clearly I’m the person to ask? Are you serious? You’re a lot more devious than me, Kurt. If you can’t do it, then who am I to try? After all, I regularly bow down before your superior awesomeness.”

There was amusement lacing the other boy’s voice, and hearing it made Kurt so happy. For a while there he’d feared David would never have that again – wouldn’t  **be around** to have it. He would give a lot to make sure that it stayed.

“It’s.. I mean, I don’t want her **dead** or anything, just... I don’t want to have to deal with her. So if someone were to like, tranq her and ship her of to Antarctica or something, that would be lovely. Or, or, if she ended up with permanent laryngitis. Seriously, it’d be awesome. A mute Rachel Berry... That would be a true miracle, right there.” Really, it might even be enough to make even him believe in the existence of a god, even if he wasn’t going to say that out loud.

“But really, enough about Rachel Berry. You promised me news,” he sing-songed.

“Okay, okay. What you said last time, about not letting one college rejecting me stand in my way, to look at options, well, I spent a lot of time thinking about that. So I did some research and made some calls. Three of the clubs I talked to asked me to send copies of all my stuff; school papers, stats, game footage...”

“That’s amazing!”

“It gets even better though,” and David’s smile reached an almost blinding level. “I got an offer from one of them yesterday.” Kurt’s mouth fell open. “Not to play, obviously, but for a sort of internship with the manager and the coach. They even said they’d make sure I get some time on the ice as well, for practice.”

He didn’t know much about hockey, or sports at all really, because he’d never cared, but this? This sounded amazing, on the almost-too-good-to-be-true level. Phenomenal. He said so, and quickly added “and it’s no less than you deserve. I’m so happy for you!”

“Yeah, I just... It feels unreal. Like I’m going to wake up any minute and it’s all been a dream. Too good to be true, you know? It’s a good team, really good, and I will be getting some incredibly valuable experience. There’s a good school for me there too, if I want to work in classes. Even if I don’t actually get any ice time, except for solo skating when the rink is empty, it’s still more that I dared hope for. And I never would have gotten around to doing this if not for you encouraging me.”

The gratitude felt good, sure, but also too much.

“You would have, I know you would. There’s no way you would have let yourself be pushed down in the long run.” He looked down on his plate to hide the slight flush on his face. All of this mutual appreciation was getting to him – it had been a while since he’d been seen this way, and since he’d complimented someone like this, out of the blue. Being friends with David felt good, and he continued to be grateful for the opportunity, suspected he would for years to come. Speaking of...

“David? This team you’re talking about, where are they at?”

“Canada. I’ll be moving to Canada,” and Kurt’s heart sank a little, “and this is where I’m feeling a little stressed out. They want me there as soon as possible. And seeing as my last finals are Friday...”

His heart sank further. Was he going to lose David this soon, after just finding him? That...sounded  _unfair_ less than great.

“So you’ll be leaving before I do then? Before the rest of us graduates, I mean.”

“Yes. I’m pretty much going to pack up and leave this weekend. It feels strange, but I need to get out of here. There’s nothing for me in Lima,” and that **had** to be the bottom his heart was hitting, “not really. I mean, I’m going to miss my dad, and you, but the rest? Not so much. And it’s not like I can justify sticking around for another couple of weeks just to get in more time with the two of you.”

“No, I guess not. Though I **am** going to miss you as well, you know,” and he took a chance, reached across the table and squeezed David’s hand for a couple of seconds. Because he really, really would.

 

He was in a mixed mood when he came home, both happy to have spent some quality time with a friend – in the end they’d done school work before ordering pizza and watching a movie – and sad that he wasn’t going to get many more days like this. David would be gone by the end of the week, and in a few weeks it would be Kurt’s time to leave, only for New York.  _Hopefully._

That didn’t make it any easier, the thought that he would be in the city of his dreams. He wanted it all, he supposed.

Opening his e-mail, because he’d heard – and ignored – the ding notifying him of a new message several times during the evening, he wondered what he’d find. It was the address he used for school related things, and for a second he allowed himself the thought that maybe it was NYADA, already, informing him he’d been accepted. It wouldn’t be, not for at least another week, and probably not through e-mail either, but still. Dreaming was important.

Of course he was right, and it wasn’t anything as pleasant as college. It was the Glee assignment for the week, the one they were supposed to have gotten the day before. Because naturally they were still doing weekly assignments instead of preparing for Nationals – after all, all they had to do was pick a set list, learn the tunes and lyrics, come up with and learn choreography and assign solos. (Or well, not the last, because Kurt was pretty sure he knew how that would go.)

This week was apparently lost. That left them three weeks. Three weeks to do all of that, and do it well enough to become National Champions.  _Who needs more than three weeks for that anyway?_ And god, he needed to tone it down, because he could actually  **feel** the bitterness of that though on his tongue. So, instead of dwelling on it any longer he opened the message, slightly curious as to what lesson Mr Schue felt they needed to learn this time.

And stared.

_Those interfering, good for nothing_ _**bitches** _ _!_ He was fuming. So it hadn’t been enough for everyone to poke and prod and “casually” bring up how Kurt needed to fix things with Blaine? It hadn’t been enough for them to have pushed for him to serenade his ex with Whitney the week before last? Oh no. Of course not.

Apparently his refusal to do so made it necessary to also involve Mr Schue and make sure there was an entire assignment created for the sole purpose of Kurt begging for forgiveness. Oh, he might not be able to  **prove** that that was what had happened, but. What else could it be?

“Pick a song that expresses your feelings for one or several members of the group.”

And somehow Kurt had ended up having to go first, to perform the very next day.

It wasn’t even as anyone was subtle about it – the rest of the messages he’d gotten while at David’s basically consisted of “hints” and song suggestions. It seemed as if “I Have Nothing” was still seen as his obvious choice, at least by most of the girls with Rachel and Mercedes in the lead. That, at least, answered his question about who had taken it upon themselves to provide Brad with that particular sheet music.

Well. He’d show them. He had the  **perfect** song, and maybe afterwards everyone would get that he and Blaine were over, and back the hell off. He snorted.  _Yeah, and maybe Lima will become gay friendly over night._

Still. Never abandon hope.

 

When it was time for him to perform he just got up quietly, walked to the front and nodded to the band. No lengthy introduction. No explanations, no pleas for forgiveness. He had his song, and that was enough.

He could see the looks, the nods, the nudges. All of his so-called friends, so smug, thinking they knew what was to come. Thinking they knew best. Well screw them. Kurt Hummel was  **done** conforming to their expectations, done bending to Blaine’s will. He’d done all the bending he could without breaking. Well, there had already been some breaking. Without breaking completely then.

It was obvious when they realized, one after the other, that the music playing wasn’t for any of the songs they’d expected and/or suggested. It was equally obvious that none of them could identify the song yet. There would be scandalized gasps and looks once they did, he knew. He just didn’t care.

He opened his mouth and started to sing.

( [ http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0Fe8IVDYXVo ](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0Fe8IVDYXVo) )

 

“ _You think that I can’t live without your love_

– _You’ll see”_

He let his eyes – cold, cool, judging – wander across the room, touching on every single member of the New Directions (and Mr Schue). The song might be primarily for Blaine, but the message, oh, the message wasn’t for just his ex. It was for all of them. Some more than others, but.

“ _You think I have nothing, without you by my side_

_You’ll see – somehow, some way”_

It was as much a jab at the others’ song choice, as it was a message for Blaine. His ex had acted like it was so certain Kurt would stay with him, no matter how badly he behaved, because who would Kurt be on his own? Himself is the answer, the one he didn’t think the other boy had realized.

“ _You think that you are strong, but you are weak – You’ll see_

_It takes more strength to cry, admit defeat_

_I have truth on my side – you only have deceit_

_You’ll see – somehow, some day”_

He saw, for just an instant, how Blaine flinched. The line about deceit had gotten to him, as Kurt had suspected it might, and it felt good to see.

As he prepared for the finale, to sing the words that were so fitting for his own situation, his future, he stared down both Rachel and Blaine – who were conveniently seated next to each other – and allowed his lips to twist into a wry smile.

“ _I’ll stand on my own, I won’t need anyone this time_

_It will be mine – no one can take it from me_

_You’ll see”_

He was done with them, both of them, and he didn’t care who knew.

 

~ TBC ~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kurt's song for the chapter is "You'll See" by Madonna.


	6. Chapter 6

The best thing about Wednesday’s Glee practice (if it could be called that) was the time – after the last class. That had meant that after publicly dissing not only his ex but also most of his friends Kurt had been able to walk out and not have to deal with them any more that day. He’d even been able to avoid Finn, as he’d picked up takeout and gone over to the Karofsky home to help David pack.

That’s what supportive friends did, right, when seeing someone they cared about stressed out and overwhelmed. With less than a weeks warning for a move not just across state lines, but to another country, David was in over his head, and Kurt... Well, Kurt just couldn’t stand by and do nothing. Plus, helping out meant he got to spend time with David, and listen to what his friend’s new life would look like.

Toronto sounded like a nice place, and David was excited, and it wasn’t, Kurt reminded himself, like the other boy was going to the moon or even to Europe –  _really, what was I_ _**thinking** _ _?_ – which was good, because transatlantic trips were  **expensive** . Toronto was even a drivable distance, from both Lima and New York, only just over 300 miles. David could come visit. Kurt could go visit. There was still the option of e-mails, and skype. He wouldn’t lose this friendship now, not when he’d just learned how precious it was to him.

He said as much to David, during a break in packing, and was rewarded with a shy but brilliant smile.

No.  _Not losing this._

 

Sadly the fact that no one had been given the opportunity to harass him the day before meant that they’d had the time to work up to new levels of indignation. In the end Thursday was only tolerable because there was no Glee, and Kurt once again used the skills he’d perfected during years of bullying. He left no room for anyone to approach him alone, and not even Rachel Berry was willing to go after him in front of a teacher other than Mr Schue.

He just wished they’d give up.  He wasn’t getting back together with Blaine. His friends could harass him, and his ex could whine, grovel and serenade as he wished, but Kurt wasn’t going to budge. What he’d seen of Blaine’s correspondence with Sebastian had been too damning, and he found he enjoyed the freedom that came with not being with Blaine. That was telling, he thought, that he described breaking up not as becoming single, but as  **being free from Blaine** .

The thought of taking the evidence he’d found and throw it in Blaine’s face had struck him, but he’d given up on that almost immediately. Doing that would mean taking heat for snooping – maybe even getting in some serious trouble. He had, after all, entered the Anderson home without invitation. And in the end? He suspected no one would take his side anyway. Practically every single member of the New Directions had cheated, or helped someone cheat – including Mr Schuester. For them there was always an excuse, always some reason why their cheating wasn’t really that bad or their fault.

_Chances are they’ll still side with Blaine, and blame_ _**me** _ _for him straying. Blaine will. It’ll be my fault for him messing up, and my fault for me messing up. I wonder, when is it ever_ _**his** _ _fault?_

Never, he suspected. And Kurt Hummel was done taking that. He deserved better, and he was going to make sure that he got it.

For a while he’d even thought about finding himself someone new and flaunt it. Not that he particularly wanted a new boyfriend, but it would have been an excellent way to upset Blaine. Kurt was pretty sure he wouldn’t have had to look very hard – not if the way David watched him was any indication.

But no. He was still too hurt, too damaged, too fresh out of everything with Blaine and most importantly: he wasn’t ready. Neither was David, as it were, plus the simple fact that they both deserved more.

David in particular deserved more than what Kurt could give at the moment. Besides, with David leaving in just three days,  _don’t think about that, not here,_ it wasn’t as if the circumstances were in their favor. A relationship with David held a lot of potential, Kurt was sure, but to start something when they were on the brink of separation? That was just insane.

He didn’t need a boyfriend though, not for his life to be good, and not if all he wanted to do was upset Blaine. All he needed for  **that** to happen was to find a nice looking gay boy, either online or maybe through a visit to the closest lgbt youth center, and then go on a few public dates. Maybe even take said boy to prom. That’d be enough to show Blaine exactly how little Kurt cared, how little he intended to take his ex back.

But, again, David deserved better.

And yes, that too was rather telling.

 

Friday morning Kurt actually considered calling in sick again. The chances of Blaine not performing that morning – as well as the chances of his song not being for Kurt – were about the same as for a snowball in hell. But staying home wouldn’t solve anything, and he knew it. If Kurt didn’t show up today he’d only have to deal with it Monday instead, or whenever he did come back. Whitney week had taught him that much.

Besides, staying home, hiding in his bedroom, felt too much of running away. He’d done it once already because of Blaine, yes, but that had been so he’d be able to get his act together for the audition. He wasn’t going to do it again. Years of bullying hadn’t managed to drive him out of school, not really, so why should he let his ex do so?

Besides, there was one good thing about today’s “practice”: it was only 30 minutes. He could get through 30 minutes without committing violence, or otherwise get himself expelled, surely.  _Right?_

He dressed for battle, so to speak, donning his own version of armor and making himself look as unapproachable as he could manage. For a glorious minute he considered packing the pepper spray that had rested in his nightstand all year, but after getting caught up in imagining using said spray on someone only to catch sight of the too pleased (and slightly scary) smile in the mirror he decided against it. The rest of the gleeks might be annoying the hell out of him, but there was no need to get expelled or suspended over them.

 

Walking into the choir room Kurt picked a seat carefully. Back row, against the wall, with his bag and jacket taking up the two seats next to him, all clearly signaling exactly how little he wanted to socialize. Of course, seeing as social graces and observation skills weren’t exactly any of his friends’ stronger skills it might not help, but he was still going to try.  _After all, failings in others should never stop you from making an effort yourself._

The others looked at him with a mix of scorn and pity, in between supposedly supportive looks thrown in Blaine’s direction. It only served to make him even more resolved. Whatever came out of Blaine’s mouth, Kurt would  **not** be taking him back, or forgiving him, or even try and be his friend again. Not even full on groveling, with a complete confession, would help. Oh, it’d make him happy, sure, and less likely to plot his ex’s demise, but there would be –  **could** be – no forgiveness. Not after everything.

 

He suffered through Mr Schue’s blabbing about Wednesday’s “interesting choices” as well as the first three songs – and yes, he even felt that listening to Mercedes constituted suffering – before it was time to steel himself as Blaine took the stage.

“So this is for Kurt.” Blaine looked even more pitiful than usual, again with the hurt-puppy look, only this time it was “ **kicked** hurt puppy”. He was also staring at Kurt with what was probably supposed to be ‘soulful’ eyes. _Yeah right._ They made him look like a constipated cow.

_I’m so done with this._ Kurt suppressed both a sigh and the desire to rip into his ex. Even if Blaine’s expression hadn’t been offensive his outfit would have been – Kurt had made it  **very** clear how much he hated that shirt. Of course, Blaine being Blaine meant it had all gone over his head.  _Like just about everything, with his height... Stop it._ But seriously. What made Blaine think it was a good idea to serenade his ex wearing almost exactly the same clothes as he’d worn when making out with Rachel right in front of Kurt? Insanity. Just... No.

In fact, what had made Blaine think it was a good idea to serenade his ex at all? Did he really think it would work, that Kurt would let some poorly chosen song – and Blaine  **excelled** at picking the worst possible song – get to him? Change his mind? Kurt stopped himself, and mentally rolled his eyes, because of course Blaine thought so. The idea that Blaine Anderson might not get what he wanted was simply too foreign to the boy.

The reality check would not be welcome. But that didn’t change the fact that it would come. Because the answer would still be no. Not now, not like this. It was too little – whatever it was – and most definitely too late. It had been too late from the moment Blaine had opened his mouth to label Kurt a cheater.

Well, actually it had been too late much earlier, but  **Kurt** hadn’t known until then.

He had to confess to being a little curious as to what Katy Perry – or P!nk, he supposed – song Blaine had chosen though. Not because it mattered, but Kurt wanted to know how far Blaine was willing to push things.

The answer, he realized less than a minute into  [ the song ](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aSZVYZTze74) , was much too far.

It was an...interesting choice. Yes, it had Blaine admitting – or  **seeming** to admit – that he’d “fucked up” and that he shouldn’t have dragged their problems up in front of the group. But it also painted Blaine as some sort of innocent victim, and suggested – not so subtly – that Kurt should forgive him, a sentiment which had basically every head in the room nodding along.

 

“ _But I never meant to hurt you_

_I know that it’s time that I learnt to_

_Treat the people I love like I wanna be loved_

_This is a lesson learnt”_

 

Except Kurt had no reason what so ever to believe any of this. Blaine had meant to call him out, had meant it to be just as shaming and hurtful as it had been. He just hadn’t meant for there to be any lasting consequences of it. The same was true, Kurt believed, of Blaine’s interactions with Sebastian – it wasn’t something that had happened by accident, and Blaine didn’t really regret anything. No, Kurt didn’t think Blaine had learned any lessons at all. Nor would he any time soon, by the looks of it.

He was just going to try harder to not get caught.

 

“ _If I could turn back the hands of time_

_I swear I never would have crossed that line_

_I should have kept it between us_

_But no I went and told the whole world how I’m feeling_

_So I sit and I realise with these tears falling from my eyes_

_I gotta change if I wanna, keep you forever – I promise that I’m gonna try”_

 

Kurt felt his throat tighten, and bile rise. “Keep you forever”. Once that would have sounded like heaven to him, but that was before he’d had his eyes opened and really seen the reality of their relationship. Now “forever” with Blaine just sounded like a threat. He didn’t  **want** to be kept – not that his opinion seemed to matter to anyone.

As for Blaine’s promises to change... Kurt trusted those about as much as he trusted Blaine’s fidelity, which by now had sunk below “hell no”.

 

“ _I’m not a saint no not at all_

_But what I did it wasn’t cool_

_But I swear that I’ll never do that again to you”_

 

He hadn’t expected true remorse and insight from Blaine, that was true, but this? This was beating even his worst case scenarios when it came to song choice.

 

“ _I hate that I let you down and I feel so bad about it_

_I guess karma comes back around_

_Cuz’ now I’m the one that’s hurting – yeah_

_And I hate that I made you think that the trust we have is broken_

_Don’t tell me you can’t forgive me cuz’ nobody’s perfect”_

 

Once the song was over Blaine just stood there and  **stared** , while the rest of the group alternated between clapping their hands and looking at Kurt. Expecting him, no doubt, to ‘come to his senses’ and run into Blaine’s arms, or something equally stupid.

The stares grew heavier, and Blaine was pulling out the kicked puppy routine again.

“Kurt?”

“Yes?”

“Do you... Don’t you have anything to say?”

“You mean besides the fact that your body language was a bit off, and that particular song style isn’t really something you should do?” Not to mention the faces. Really. **Never** mention the faces. If he could only never **see** them either... “Not really. But Blaine? Us being over? Me not forgiving you? Has **nothing** to do with with perfection. I know I’m not perfect, and I **definitely** know that you’re not, but that doesn’t mean I have to take you back or forgive you for treating me badly. If you feel bad, that’s– There’s nothing I can do to change what’s happened.” And even if he could, he wouldn’t. Maybe to end things earlier, but not to stay together. “Because I don’t just **think** my trust is broken, **I know** it is.”

“But Kurt...” the boy whined. “Look, I realize that maybe I didn’t handle things in the best way, but you really hurt me! Still, I should have been mature about it, and I’m sorry about that. But we can solve this.”

“No, I really don’t think we can. Besides, why would I **want** to solve anything with you? After everything you’ve done, Blaine, do you really expect me to just forget about it? I don’t think so.”

“I was upset! I had every right to be! You were the one to–” It looked like Blaine was going to continue his rant – and Kurt found he was kind of looking forward to it – but then he reined himself in. _Pity_.

“I overreacted. We should have sat down and talked, calmly and in private,” _yeah, we really should have_ , “and I shouldn’t have picked that song. I didn’t mean for you to interpret it as me breaking up with you.”

“You already said so, remember? It still doesn’t change anything.”

Blaine spluttered, obviously miffed that things weren’t going the way he wanted them to, and Kurt had to fight back a smile. Oh, the situation was anything but funny, but Blaine’s faces... Those  **were** .

“Look, Blaine, this is Glee, not couple’s therapy. I’m not here to rehash a dead relationship, but since you obviously need to hear this again, fine. I’ll indulge you, one last time. We’re over. End of story.”

He turned his head slightly and looked at Mr Schue.

“Mr Schuester? Are we done for today yet? Because while this has been really...illuminating I have somewhere to be.”

His teacher looked at him incredulously, and clearly wanted to make him stay, but since not even Mr Schue could justify meddling that much into his students’ personal lives he ended up nodding.

“Have a nice weekend guys, and see you Monday.”

Now all he needed was to get away with as little damage as possible. That, apparently, was his goal these days: not to be left in peace, but to keep the harassment to a minimum. It reminded him of the old days, with locker shoves and dumpster tosses, and that? That just made him sad.

So much for the gleeks being family. So much for the choir room acting as a sanctuary. He stepped out into the corridor, felt a little of the tension disappear, and  **ached** with the realization that the choir room and the New Directions were no longer a safe space for him.

He only got a handful of steps before he was being called back.

“Kurt!”

He winced.  _Here we go again_ . Rachel Berry was all about high notes, both on stage and when lecturing people, and his sensitive hearing didn’t appreciate being subjected to them this often.

“Yes, Rachel?”

“It’s time you stop acting like a child. Yes, Blaine messed up,” _oh, like you know even half of it_ , “but he apologized, and now you’re just torturing him. That’s **mean** , and I expected better from you.” Because clearly not taking back his ex-boyfriend was ‘mean’ and not a personal choice. Well, at least she was consistent, because he remembered her acting the same towards Finn.

“I absolutely cannot have this kind of tension around me. Do you want to ruin everything for me, Kurt? I’m trying to get Madam Tibideaux to come watch me sing at Nationals,” _and there you go, assuming it’ll be all about you, and never mind the fact that we don’t have a set list yet_ “and that means everything has to be perfect. Do you hear me, Kurt? **Perfect**.”

“I can be professional, Rachel. I want us to win just as much as anyone else, after all.”

“But with your problems effecting him Blaine won’t be performing at his best, and that means he’ll be dragging me down. I can’t afford that. You need to fix this, Kurt, because I will **not** let your petty issues end up costing me NYADA!”

She spun on her heel, stormed out and left him to stare at her back in disbelief.  **He** would be costing her NYADA? Right. Because clearly her failure to deliver during her audition had nothing to do with it. He snorted. Sometimes he wondered how it would be like to live in Rachel Berry land, where everything good was your just due and everything bad was someone else’s fault. Normally people got therapy and prescription drugs for delusions like that, but for Rachel... It just was.

And the really sad part? Rachel Berry had it in her to be  **amazing** – and she was her own greatest enemy when it came to fulfilling that potential.

If she could just learn to see things differently, to view reality as it was, not as she felt it should be? He could have loved her. Could easily have been just as close to her as she constantly assumed he was.

He shook his head. That would never come to pass. Rachel’s brand of love and friendship came at much too high a cost. The unintended quote brought a small smile to his lips. It was true though, borrowed words or not. It was true for Blaine as well.

Taking a deep breath and straightening his back he nodded. So be it. That song was going to guide him. Because he truly  **was** done playing by everyone else’s rules. Kurt Hummel was going to defy not only gravity and limits but expectations and demands.

 

_~TBC~_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song (ab)used here is "Nobody's Perfect" by Jessie J.


	7. Chapter 7

Kurt was sure there were, in fact, worse things to do than eating dinner out with his family. He was equally sure he did  **not** want to know what those things were. Because between his stress, and sadness, his dad’s worry and the passive-aggressive bullshit Finn was pulling dinner was... “Pretty bad” didn’t begin to cover it. If not for the fact that there wouldn’t be that many more dinners with his dad in Lima he would have been out of there before they’d even gotten their menus.

Luckily the public venue kept Finn somewhat contained, but that was almost guaranteed to end once they arrived at the house.

Meaning it was time to be proactive.

“Finn? Can I have a word?” He didn’t wait for an answer, just pulled his so-called brother back before the jock could enter the house.

“Wha– Kurt? What the hell are you doing?”

“No. The question isn’t what **I** ’m doing, it’s what are **you** doing? I’ve put up with a **lot** of shit from you, which I shouldn’t have to, just because I don’t want our parents to get involved. But I’ve had it. So here’s how it’s going to be: you are going to shut. the. hell. up. Get it? No more passive-aggressive bull, no more snide remarks and sniping, no more trying to make me look bad in front of our parents. No more. What happened between me and Blaine is between me and Blaine. It’s not your fight, and honestly, it’s none of your fucking business.”

He reeled himself in a little. Resorting to swearwords was a bad habit, and a warning sign as well, a  **big** one.

“And frankly, even if this was your fight, you don’t get to bring it into our home. Let me make this really easy for you: you know dad isn’t supposed to get upset. If you make him? If you in any way threaten his health? I will **end** you.”

And then he stopped, images of David flashing before his eyes. David, who almost  **had** ended, and the connotations made him feel sick. He would never threaten Finn like that, would never hurt the boy he'd come to see as his brother, but that didn't change the fact that even hinting at it made him feel dirty and nauseous.

“And don’t think for a second I don’t have the means to do so. All those dirty little secrets you don't want spread around? I know them. I know every single one of them,” he didn't, not really, but he **did** know enough to make things very uncomfortable for Finn, “and while I've kept my mouth shut so far you **really** shouldn't assume I always will.”

“You–”

“Yeah, me. I’ve had it with this, Finn. Ever since the breakup you, all of you, have been harassing me about it, taking Blaine’s side without even thinking about listening to my side. Fine. I can deal. Because right now? I don’t **care** any more. I don’t even care about how **you** are behaving like an ass, except for how it might affect dad.

“You’ve made it clear that being Blaine’s 'bro' is more important to you than being my brother. Again, I can deal. Dad? Won’t. Don't think for a **second** he will. If he finds out that you’re part of the harassment going on he’ll go berserk – remember how that felt?”

“And you’re so sure Burt will be okay with **your** behavior? You’re the one who–”

“Shut up. I’m not kidding around here, Finn. Here’s a newsflash for you: dad knows. After you ran and tattled – yeah, I know about that – he and I talked, and I told him exactly what had been going on. **And** he’s on my side. Why don’t you think about that for a few minutes? Preferably take your cue from that as well.

“I’m not expecting you to have my back here,” _even if you_ _ **promised**_ _you would_ , “but I **am** expecting you to keep your mouth shut around dad and Carole, and to back off. This has nothing to do with you. It’s got nothing to do with Rachel, no matter how much she wants to make it that way. It’s my life, my personal business, and I don’t owe any of you any explanations. I’m done explaining myself to people who won’t trust me.”

And that, right there, said so much. Too much. He'd spent the last three years getting to know the other gleeks, letting them past his barriers and learning to trust even after what most of them had done to him. And yet here he was, with none of them willing to trust him in return. He wanted to cry, to laugh, to rage. Three years of hard work, and for what?

“We have a month left of high school, Finn. One month, until we’re heading out and moving on. All I’m asking that during that time you act as if we’re actually family in front of our parents. What you do outside of that... I really don’t have the energy to care about that.”

Because he really, really didn’t. Nationals was just around the corner, and they didn’t have a set list. Time to practice would be scarce too. Yes, technically they had just over two weeks, but in reality? One of those weeks would be almost completely lost to Finals.

Of course, he was pretty sure that the Troubletones already had a couple of songs in mind, and that they most likely had the solos divided up too, and with Mr Schue guaranteed to fold for Rachel’s demands there would be little for the rest of them to do. Still, they were supposed to go all out on choreography this year. He had a really hard time seeing that happen in such a short time.

_Chances are Mr Schue will make Mike come up with something impressive while the rest of us bop in the background. How...novel._

Walking away from Finn didn’t feel as satisfying as he’d have liked.

 

Thankfully Finn had listened, at least somewhat, as he'd spent the rest of the evening quiet in a corner. Sulking, really, and that hadn't escaped attention. His dad hadn't said anything though, instead – apparently – choosing to wait until they were alone, and Kurt was a little bit more relaxed.

That time came after a few hours in the garage Saturday, just the two of them, head first in an abused engine. Up until then they'd mostly worked in silence, content to just soak in each others' presence, but one sentence made it all too clear that the time for being quiet was over.

“So, I noticed Finn was acting kind of strange last night? Any idea what that was about?”

Kurt winced, and shrugged, trying to buy a little time. He really didn't want his dad involved in this fight, but at the same time lying was out of the question.

“He... He's having a hard time understanding that sometimes couples break up and actually stay broken up. Also, since Blaine and I didn't argue in public before and I haven't aired any grievances after... I'm not following the pattern he's used to, you know? Plus, they're friends. Loyalty becomes hard then.”

And it did, it absolutely did, only to Kurt “brother” was supposed to trump “brother's ex-boyfriend you couldn't even stand eight months ago”. He wasn't the only Hummel to think so.

“Family comes first. It should, at least. Do I need to have a talk with Finn about this?”

“No! Dad, please. We need to deal with this ourselves, okay? Finn's... He just needs some time to adjust. We'll be fine. Now, is it still okay if I spend the evening out?”

Not that it really mattered if it was okay or not, because parental approval or not, he  **was** going over to David's once they were done in the garage. They'd made plans for a marathon movie night with take-out – gong all out in an effort to lessen the effect of it being the last time they'd be hanging out like this. In less than 24 hours David would be on his way to Toronto, and Kurt didn't want to think about how lonely he'd be then.

 

Time spent with David was, as always these days, calming. As long as they ignored the giant elephant in the room that was David's impending departure, and it's twin, aka Kurt's Glee situation, that was.

It was, in fact, one of the best Saturday evenings Kurt had had in ages. They'd gotten Chinese take-out (never mind the fact that Paul had been the one to pick it up, as neither of the boys felt safe doing so) and a mix of silly movies, starting with the Mighty Ducks and ending with Were the World Mine. As all good things though, the evening had to come to an end.

“I'm going to miss this – miss you. I know we said we'd keep in touch, but... It won't be the same.”

David murmured the words against his neck as they hugged good night (not goodbye, they were not saying that word) and Kurt swallowed around the lump forming in his throat.

“No, I guess it won't, but David, we'll make the best of it. We're getting out of here, remember? We're going to leave this shitty town behind us, and **live** , and be happy, and I'll be there for you, okay, only be a call away. Just like you'll be for me. I'm not giving you up, not now. So don't you dare give up either. Promise me.”

“I won't. **We** won't.”

“That's right. We won't.”

 

On his walk home – he'd opted out of driving as he didn't want anyone to spot his car outside the Karofsky home – Kurt tried to stay cheerful. Yes, he'd miss David, but it wouldn't be any worse than he could manage. After all, he'd soon be leaving himself, and he'd long since gotten used to the reality of leaving friends and family behind. It would be hard, but doable. Surely.

 

Sunday was fine, mostly thanks to his dad, but Monday...

He missed David. Missed him  **so much** . It was almost ridiculous. They'd been enemies, pretty much, for most of high school and friends for less than two months. Plus, David had only been gone for a day.

It didn't matter, apparently. After his breakup he'd spent more and more time with David, until the other boy had been a part of practically every non-school, non-sleeping moment. And now he wasn't.

Oh, they'd keep in touch, through e-mail and skype, as had already been proved by David's “check-in” to let Kurt know he'd arrived safely at his new home, but it wouldn't be the same. Kurt would miss David's actual physical presence. Not to mention the simple fact that David's new schedule was going to be brutal. It all came down to one thing: he was unlikely to continue getting a daily dose of David.

That thought, surprisingly (or maybe not so much), hurt more than going without the same from Blaine, Rachel and Mercedes.

_Huh. That...tells me a lot, really._

School was made tolerable by the fact that it was time for Finals. He was going to spend all of his free time reviewing, and set his focus on acing his tests, and that would be it. Usually he would have put Glee down as a highlight, but not any longer. Their morning session had been...less than satisfactory. Mr Schue had revealed the theme of Nationals – vintage – with pomp and circumstance, but while Kurt could see how that could be turned into something awesome he  **couldn't** see how it would end up being anything but a Finchel fest.

Yes, there was a Troubletones number, and god, how he wished he could have been included in that, because they were planning on doing Gaga. “Edge of Glory” was a favorite, and he knew his voice would have blended beautifully with the girls'. But. He'd never felt welcome to join before, and he certainly didn't now.

So he kept his mouth shut, held back the snark and the eyerolls, and basically tried to ignore everything that was said during the entire meeting. His time, he thought with an internal sigh, would have been better spent in bed or in the library. At least in the library his oncoming headache would have been worth it.

Now, all he got was Rachel going “me, me, me” and Mr Schue responding with soothing noises. Oh, and Tina exploding. Apparently  **someone** had gotten a taste for solos, and wasn't going to back down gracefully. It infuriated him. Yes, Tina was talented. Yes, she had certainly gotten the short end of the stick over the past three years, but not only had she gotten featured at Regionals, but also she had another year. Rachel, Santana and Mercedes were her competition, as was he in a way, considering his range, and they were all leaving. Tina was a shoe-in as female lead for her senior year (unless some amazing freshman turned up) so why shouldn't she be made to take the backseat on this?

Then again, he wasn't exactly objective when it came to solos, or to Tina for that matter. She'd pushed for him to give up part of ABC to Mike, using their friendship as leverage, and when he had been the one to need support, where had she been? Firmly in Blaine's court, that's where.

Of course, normally he'd be all for Tina taking a solo from Rachel, but this time? With all that had happened on one side, and the fact that  **he** wanted – no, needed – what solos could be wrestled from Rachel? No. No more Mr Nice Kurt. It was time to figure out the right angle of attack, and fight for a solo. After all, most of what Rachel could sing, so could he, and there were even songs he would do better on.

_Hmmm. This takes some thinking on..._

Clearly it'd be smarter to plan out everything, including what song he'd like to sing, only he'd have to be careful to pick one that would fit in with the theme, yet wouldn't suit Rachel, and... He broke off. Someone was staring at him. He relaxed and looked around, meeting Mr Schue's eyes. The coach was looking at him in a speculative way Kurt wasn't altogether comfortable with, as if he was planning something Kurt would  **not** like. Everyone else was still talking, so it was obviously not a question of not responding when addressed. Huh.

The second they were dismissed Kurt was on his feet, as had become his habit lately, only this time to avoid his teacher instead of his ex or his so-called friends. If Mr Schue wanted something, he could wait for when Kurt was ready. Now it was time to study, take a Final, and plan for how to try and score a solo.

Of course nothing went to plan. When Kurt left his last class for the day Mr Schue was standing outside, clearly waiting for someone. For him.

“Kurt? Could you come with me to my office for a couple of minutes? There's something I’d like to talk to you about.”

“Of course, Mr Schue.”

He followed the man leave while considering what this Glee coach might want. There wasn’t that many options, really. The chances of Mr Schue having changed his mind about Nationals being all about Rachel (never mind that they didn’t yet have an official set list) and wanting to offer Kurt a solo were...minuscule. Less, actually.

That meant it was most likely one of two things: either he'd figured out Kurt was going to fight for a solo and wanted Kurt to call a ceasefire and support Rachel instead, or he wanted to throw in his opinion on the Blaine situation. It could have been something else, sure, but Kurt didn’t think so. Not with what he knew about the man.

“So, Kurt. Two weeks left, then we leave for Nationals. Exciting, right?”

Kurt started to answer, except obviously it had been a rhetorical question as Mr Schue barged on without pause.

“The last chance too, for some, seeing as two thirds of you graduate this year. And of course we're all eager to do better than last year!”

This time, however, it seemed he was meant to answer, but he didn't get past “yes” before the man was at it again.

“Now, we all know how much tension there was last year, and how much it negatively affected the performance,” _not nearly as much as the fact that you a/ allowed us to get on the plane without a set list and b/ completely abandoned us once we hit New York, but yeah, sure,_ “and I think we can both agree that we don't want a repeat of that this year. I try to stay out of personal business,” _so, the breakup then,_ “but I'm not blind.”

**That** Kurt was willing to debate, but he really didn't want to fight, not when it seemed he might have just gained an unexpected ally.

“You and Blaine have been together for quite some time, for a high school couple, and your breakup came as quite a shock. I get how difficult this must be for you, and that it's primarily a personal issue, but to be honest, it has caused disruptions in the entire group that... Well. Now, I really do think we can solve this, and I have an idea–”

Kurt felt the relief run through his body, and relaxed as words started flowing from his mouth.

“Oh, thank you! It would really help if you’d talk to them, ask them to back off. I’ve tried, but they won’t listen, not to me. I’m sure if you–”

And then he caught the look on Mr Schue’s face.  _Oh._

“Right. You weren’t offering to help. Help **me** that is. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have expected– Forget about it, please.”

His glee coach’s face didn’t improve, quite the opposite in fact, and it was becoming painful for Kurt – and still he couldn’t look away, couldn’t walk away. He really, really should have though, that much became obvious once the man opened his mouth.

“Kurt. These are your friends. Family, remember? They only want what’s best for you. But this tension in the group, it needs to go. You want to win Nationals? Then you need to get over your issues. Because frankly? This is hindering you from working together as a group – it’s damaging to your presentation. Having Blaine be miserable doesn’t help either.”

He refused to talk about Blaine’s wounded feelings (wounded pride more like it) – there was too much he needed to hold back – but as for the rest?

“Mr Schue, what’s **best** for me is not bowing to their wishes. As for the tension, well, maybe it would help if you didn’t let people use Glee as a battle ground for personal issues. I realize that’s a foreign concept for you, but you should try it.”

“Kurt! Look, I understand that you're upset, and that your feelings have been hurt, but I would appreciate it if you remembered that I am your teacher, and that you need to show me some respect. I let you guys get away with a lot, because I love you and want you to feel safe in the choir room – but there are limits to what I can accept. I'm still there for you, if you'll just let me–”

_Is he_ _**serious** _ _? He's “there” for us, we just have to “let” him?_ A flimsy red veil was slowly clouding his vision, and Kurt could no longer hold back.

“Let me be perfectly honest here. What you just said? Is bullshit. You might like to tell yourself that you’re there for us, for all your students, when the truth is that you play favorites. And I? I’m not one of them. Never have been. And I know that.

“You focus on Rachel and Finn, and mostly act like the rest of us are just some sort of props. And it goes far beyond the songs. If it was just that I could have some sort of understanding, brush it off as you doing what you think is most likely to result in a win, but it’s not.

“Finn **assaulted** Puck in the choir room. There’s no other way to describe what happened. You saw it, and you did nothing. Rachel sent another student to a crack house, and again, you did nothing. Or well, you **did** do something – you protected her, protected both of them.

“And what about me then? I talked back during the Britney Spears debacle, called you uptight. Remember? Me you sent to Figgins’ office, and I ended up getting a detention.

“Strange how that worked, wasn’t it? Your favorites acted in ways meant to harm others, and got off scot-free. I got upset because I’d rather sing something modern, less likely to get us all slushied, and didn’t hurt anyone except your pride – and yet I am the only student in Glee you’ve ever made sure was punished for **anything**.

“Did you know, when I was at Dalton Wes, who headed the Warbler council, asked why I didn’t talk to my teachers before the bullying escalated to a death threat. I told him it was because I didn’t think they’d do anything unless I was bleeding on one of them, and even then I was likely to get the blame. He thought I was joking. I let him.

“It was the truth though, and you’re one of the teachers that made me feel that way. I'm just happy you're not one of my actual teachers, just my glee coach, because with how much bullying you allow in the choir room, you know that same room you said not two minutes ago you wanted us to feel safe in? I would never have felt safe in class. Never.

“You don’t help me. You never have. You’ve told me to not let things effect me, as if I’m the one in the wrong for not being able to shrug off abuse and threats. Behavior, I might add, that would have the offenders hauled in front of a judge if they acted that way outside of a school filled with negligent adults. You’ve ignored me – even walked by me when the bullies have had me surrounded. You, Mr Schuester, were one of the people that made it possible for the bullying to not only continue during my first three years here but also escalate to the point where I feared for my life.

“If I want **help** I’ll go to someone not you. My father preferably, but if I needed to talk to someone at McKinley? The only people here who have ever stood up for me in any way are Coach Sylvester and Miss Pillsbury. I'd look to the janitor before I came to you, because he's actually given me more help. As for solving the tension in the choir room, you’re not really looking to do that, are you? You’re asking me to fold, to just do what everyone – except me, the one whose opinion should matter the most – wants me to do and crawl back to Blaine, begging for forgiveness. Well I won’t.”

And there it was. He’d avoided even thinking about things going this way, and yet now that he’d gotten there it was so clear there was only one way to continue. He looked the other man straight into the eyes, and allowed some of the disdain he felt shine through.

“There’s something else I can do though, that might help you with that tension. I quit.”

“Kurt!” The man looked at him as he was insane, but truthfully Kurt felt like it was the sanest decision he’d ever made regarding Glee.

“You don’t need me for numbers. You’ve never really used my voice, and you’re not going to this time either. And to be honest, right now Glee isn’t giving me anything but headaches. Quitting is the logical answer.” And it really, really was. In fact, it was the only logical answer. “Goodbye, Mr Schue. It’s been...an experience. Good luck with Nationals.”

He didn't slam the door behind him. The closing door in his head, and heart, sounded loud enough as it was. It was the end of a chapter in his life – time to start the next. He'd know it was coming, even if it was happening a little earlier, and a little different, to how he'd expected it. It felt like relief, and tasted like freedom.

 

_**~TBC ~** _

 


	8. Chapter 8

 

Driving away from McKinley Kurt replayed the conversation – no, the  **confrontation** with Mr Schue in his head. Had he done the right thing, quitting Glee? What if it had a negative impact on his future? What if he could have gotten a solo at Nationals? What if– and there he stopped himself.

There had been no other right solution. None. Glee was supposed to mean joy, and it didn't anymore, not to him.

The truth was that ever since the breakup he'd spent his time in the choir room just waiting to leave. He'd done his assignments, yes, but the only joy he'd gotten out of it had been the joy that came with being a bitch, and that wasn't what he wanted. It wasn't what he wanted to do, nor who he wanted to be.

He hadn't even been able to look forward to Nationals, not really. It had become something to put on his resume, nothing more, and that wasn't how it was supposed to be.

No. He'd done the right thing. And if that backfired? If not being a member of New Directions for the last four weeks of his high school career meant missing out on NYADA? Then he'd  **never** had a shot. Not really. He didn't think it would come to that though. Carmen Tibideaux was a lot of things, he'd learned, but he had a hard time thinking she was the kind to see one competition as more important than any and every thing else on a student's application. Especially since said competition was taking place around the same time as NYADA was supposed to start sending out the acceptance letters.

(Meaning it should really be pointless for Rachel to high-jack the Nationals set list, not that he would ever voice that belief out loud. He liked his skin very much as it was, thank you.)

With a sigh Kurt pulled himself out of the thought spiral he was getting caught in. He was a good driver, good enough to get home in one piece even a little distracted, but he did not like to lose focus. He had, after all, seen way too many crashed cars of others who'd also thought they were “good enough”, only for them to end up in the hospital and their vehicles to end up at Hummel's garage.

It turned out to be a good thing too, as when he looked out he noticed that he had placed his car in position to turn right. Not to go on straight ahead, and home, but to turn right, towards the Karofsky residence. Out of habit he'd been headed to David's...

And there was no David there. Sure, he had every reason to believe Paul would let him in – probably even offer him some coffee – but first of all he had no idea if the older man was back yet, and second it would feel incredibly awkward.

No. It'd be better to go home, fix himself something to eat and continue to study while waiting for David to show up on skype

 

It was hours later before David's tired but happy face showed up on Kurt's laptop screen. In that time Kurt had eaten, reviewed every single important note for next day's final, as well as vacuumed and mopped the entire floor. Finn had come home, left and come home again, all in relative silence, which told Kurt that Mr Schue had yet to share his “defection” with his former team mates.

“...and everyone's been great so far. They know, at least everyone in charge, about me, and they don't care. I know there might be some who will, but right now I don't give a damn. I'm too happy. This looks like exactly what I needed – almost too good to be true, you know, but I actually think it's real.”

“That sounds amazing. I'm happy for you,” which he really was. Sure, he missed David, but he wasn't selfish enough to begrudge his friend this opportunity.

“So, how are your quarters?”

“My 'quarters' are fine. Not up to your standards, I'm sure, but it's clean, it's got everything I need and I have my privacy. The assistant coach's sister had her garage converted to an apartment a few years ago, and that's where I ended up. We're talking a single room, with a kitchenette and a bath, but I don't need that much more. Well, look.”

David picked up his laptop, turned it and moved slowly so that the room was visible. It was cramped, yes, and the color scheme wasn't exactly what Kurt would have picked, but. As David had pointed out, he didn't need much. And he'd definitely needed to get out of Lima and actually do something much more than he'd ever needed physical space, or a tasteful décor. Kurt held back a sigh. He was more than a little jealous, color scheme be damned.

“You look...unhappy. Is something wrong?”

“I don't want to bring you down, David. This is about you, and your new home, and I–”

“Come on. Don't be like that. You're important to me, Kurt,” and he felt warm and happy at the reassurance, “and if you're unhappy I want to know. I might not be able to help, but I can listen. Haven't I proven I can be a pretty decent sounding board?”

“You're an excellent sounding board, yes, I just didn't want to burden you. But, since you asked, I quit Glee club today. Mr Schue cornered me after my last class to talk about how he's noticed the tension in the choir room, and about solving it before it becomes a threat to Nationals. It didn't take long to realize that his idea of a solution consisted of me apologizing. I declined, and decided it would be healthiest for me to quit.”

“What the fuck? He wanted **you** to apologize? To everyone?”

And it was so obvious, would have been even without the slight emphasis on the last word, that he meant “even to Blaine”.

“Yes. And before you go off on him again, **yes** , he really is that delusional. He plays favorites, even if he refuses to see it, and with all three of his biggest ones on the other side... I should have seen it coming really.”

“But, they are your friends, right? Even if you're fighting now, they've been your friends for a long time. What is this going to do to those friendships?”

And  **that** was a good question. As was whether or not he  **cared** what happened. Kurt was silent for a little while, then cleared his throat.

“I don't know for sure, but I have hope. Yes, we're fighting now, and yes, if it goes on like this I can manage quite well without them, but I want us to fix things. Mainly I worry about Finn and Mercedes. Now, Mercedes can be as stubborn as an entire herd of goats, but she was also my first close friend at McKinley. We've dealt with worse than this, and once she gets some time to calm down I have every confidence she'll get over it, and start thinking for herself again. Worst case scenario means waiting until after graduation, and push. I know where to, after all.”

“And Hudson? I mean, I know he's your stepbrother, but he's kind of whipped.”

“Honestly? He's really, **really** whipped. Part of me thinks it's a good thing that he's so willing to listen to Rachel, seeing as they're getting married and everything, but another part wants to hit him over the head and take him somewhere for deprogramming. Finn tends to be too much of a follower for his own good at times, and this is one of those.

“At the same time, he **is** family. He's my stepbrother, sure, but what he wants is to be **my brother** , and sooner or later he's going to remember that again. Right now he's caught up in group pressure, just as when he took part in bullying me, but he is a good guy underneath, and that's going to resurface sooner rather than later.

“He's only doing this because of Rachel and Blaine. Rachel having her mind made up makes things more difficult, sure, but that's only going to work for so long. Once she can't blame pressuring me on Nationals and NYADA any longer her arguments will start to sound hollow – not to mention that she'll soon be too caught up in other things to bother. Basically, Rachel Berry is too self absorbed to focus on me – or anything, really – for long if it doesn't directly affect her.

“As for Blaine... Right now Finn's upset on Blaine's account, yes, but a huge part of that is because he's spent months actively making an effort to become friends, or at least friendly, with Blaine and he's still stuck in that. They don't have that much in common though, besides me and Glee. Football, to a certain point, sure, but Blaine's never played, and he doesn't understand the game the way he'd need to for it to be an 'in' with Finn.

“I'm not in the picture any longer, and I'm never going to be again. As for Glee, well. They have Nationals coming up, yes, and that means setting all difficulties aside in the hopes of winning, but after that... Nothing. Graduation is in a month. There will be the usual promises of keeping in touch, but we all know how that usually goes.

“No, without Glee and McKinley, and without me, Blaine and Finn's friendship will end pretty quickly. Plus, Finn will be getting married, and leaving town. There really isn't any room for Blaine in that scenario.”

_ Not _ , Kurt added mentally,  _ unless Blaine somehow deludes himself into thinking he and I should get married as well. Not that he should have any reason to believe I'd agree, but. It's  _ _**Blaine** _ _... _

“Add the fact that chances are that come September Finn and I will be sharing an apartment in New York, because if we both end up going there dad's going to insist that we share, or he won't help out with rent, at all. And Blaine would **never** be welcome there, not in my home – and Finn wouldn't have a choice.

“So yeah, Blaine's going to be dust in the wind soon enough. Because once Finn gets the time to think he's always going to choose family over some guy he used to share a choir room with. And when we get there I probably will tell him the truth about the breakup as well. The **whole** truth.”

He saw the confusion on David's face and winced. Right. He'd kept parts of the story from David, partly because of how embarrassing it was but mainly because he didn't want to risk making David angry enough to do something stupid.

“The whole truth, Kurt?”

“Yeah, about that. I might not have told you everything... What I told you was enough reason to break up with him, it was, but I, I did something ugly, okay? I snuck into Blaine's empty house and went through his computer, and well, let's just say that the messages between him and Sebastian weren't as innocent as he'd claimed. He doesn't know I did that, or that I have copies of everything, which is why he feels safe pulling this shit. But, with what I have it's not even going to take five minutes to get Finn on my side.”

It might, however, take a couple of hours to keep Finn from beating up Blaine.

“And why haven't you used that? They way they've been treating you, and you could have stopped it? Did you... Are you protecting him, Kurt?”

“No! No one needs to know. They should be willing to listen to me without evidence, and until they are I'm not making an effort. I'm not telling Finn, because he'd either beat up Blaine, or tell everyone, or both I guess, and I don't want that. He'd get into trouble, and so would I. I entered someone's home without invitation, and searched their room, and computer. It won't matter why, or that I had a key. I'll still be in trouble.

“And Blaine would make sure that happened. He wants me back now, yes, but if he knew I found that? He'd lash out, and it wouldn't be pretty. So, sure, keeping quiet is partly about protecting people – but not Blaine. Everyone **but** Blaine, is more like it.

“Besides, getting into all that? It's not worth it.”

And in the end, it was as simple as that. Fighting back against Blaine wasn't worth it. It wasn't worth the time, the energy or the backlash. Either people believed him any way, or they were lost to him.

No matter what though, he still had David, and always would (or so he thought). And that? That was what was worth it.

He smiled at the other boy, and steered the conversation back to Canada. It did, after all, sound like a much better place than Lima, and if he had to live vicariously through someone else? Bring it.

 

Coming back to McKinley the day after quitting Glee was...unsettling. Kurt knew better than to believe that Mr Schuester would just let it go – the man might have no intention what so ever to make Kurt feel useful, or at times even welcome, but quitting? He was sure to take that personally. That meant being even more circumspect than even the days directly after ending things with Blaine – because no matter what, Mr Schuester was still a member of the faculty, and had tools at his disposal that Blaine didn't.

It made him feel practically paranoid at first, but by the end of the day Kurt had moved on to righteous fury.

Because Mr Schuester had been  **everywhere** .

Not even David at the height of his bullying had made Kurt feel so uncomfortable, and had it not been for the final during his last period he would have been out of there hours earlier. He definitely felt sick enough to justify leaving. But, that hadn't been an option, and so instead Kurt had been reduced to looking around corners, hiding and sneaking around, with a “lovely” headache to show for it.

And of course it hadn't helped in the end. His ex-Glee coach had apparently taken a page straight out of his ex-boyfriend's playbook and was stalking out, ehm, waiting by the Nav.  _ Great. Oh well, at least this way there's an audience, meaning he  _ _**should** _ _ keep it down. Somewhat. I hope. _

“Kurt.”

“Mr Schuester. Any particular reason you're hanging out by my car? I can assure you, unlike last year I feel no need for a bodyguard on campus.”

Oh, so he was being mean.  _ Sue me. _ It was worth the possible damage to his karma just to see the man splutter, and flush guiltily. After all, they both knew that there had been several times when Kurt could have needed protection at McKinley, not only from David, protection which Mr Schuester had failed just as spectacularly as everyone else to provide.

“I was hoping we could talk a little. Why don't we head inside, for some privacy?”

And the man actually started walking away,without waiting for Kurt to answer.  _ So sure I'll do as you wish, are you, hm? Too bad I have no intention of doing that ever again, then. _ It wasn't as if there was anything the man could hold over him to make him comply, not anymore.

“No thanks. I have some important business to take care off, and finals to study for. I really don't have the time to squander here, not without good reason. So, either you tell me what it is you want, or you don't. Either way is fine by me.”

“Fine.” Except for how it was obviously **not** fine, judging by the man's stony expression – not that Kurt cared. “I was hoping that you would have calmed down a little by now, so that we could talk about Glee. I think we both know you overreacted yesterday, and–”

“Stop. I didn't overreact. What I did was stand up for myself, and remove myself from a toxic environment, both of which were long overdue. I'm out, and there's really not anything you can do do change my mind. And that? Means we have nothing to talk about. Goodbye, Mr Schuester.”

When he drove out of the parking lot he could see his former coach still standing in the same place, staring after the Nav. It wouldn't be the last he'd hear about leaving Glee, Kurt knew, not with the other eleven members left to chime in, but. Graduation was three and a half weeks away, some of that was weekends, plus the New Directions would be spending four days in Chicago. He could deal.

Of course, there was dealing and then there was dealing, and having his brother storm into his room like a hoard of enraged elephants was  **not** something Kurt wanted to deal with. He would, because he always did, but still.  _ It shouldn't be necessary. I shouldn't always have to deal with this. _

Then again, he thought with a sigh, it was only to be expected. Mr Schuester knew, just as well as everyone else, that Kurt and Finn were constantly working on their relationship, and that Kurt was still trying to make up for all the mistakes he'd made in the beginning. (Finn was too, of course, but somehow that tended to be overlooked, just as the mistakes themselves.) It was actually a good plan, he had to admit, making Finn be the one to go after him. He had, after all, a tendency to fold a little too easy due to that leftover guilt.

If only Mr Schuester had planned Glee with the same manner of intelligence.  _ Maybe then we wouldn't have been fighting every step of the way for three years... _

“Dude! You quit Glee?”

“Yes.”

“But, Nationals is, like, next week!”

“Again, yes.”

“Why? Why would you do that? We need you!”

“No, you really don't.” Which of course was a lie. Kurt was pretty sure that the New Directions **did** , in fact, need him, or rather his voice, but. That had never been acknowledged, and he didn't expect it to be now either. They would notice the void where his voice had been, or not. Either way it wasn't any of his business anymore, and he certainly wasn't going to call attention to the fact that he believed their performances would suffer from his absence.

“And if it turns out that you **do** need me, well. Too bad. I **told** you, Finn, I won't stand for being harassed. I haven't had a moments peace in the choir room – and barely out of it either – since the break-up, and I'm tired. With Mr Schuester deciding to add his two cents... That was it. I have better things to do with my time, and I **really** didn't appreciate being pressured by a pretend teacher about apologizing to my ex for not staying in a doomed relationship either.”

He stopped himself. No need to exhaust himself by trying to get through to Finn, not now. Besides, say he did manage to make Finn see his point? The explosion that would most certainly follow would  **not** be pretty. It could seriously damage the club's chances at Nationals, and contrary to what everyone might think that wasn't something Kurt wanted.

“And Finn? You shouldn't let Mr Schue push you into doing his dirty work for him, okay? He's supposed to be in charge of Glee club – so let him. He could have done something to prevent this at any time during the last few weeks, but he chose not to, just as he chose to take a side.

“If he does this again I'm telling dad. Not because I want you to get into trouble, but because Mr Schuester has no right to involve you like this. Sending you to try and push further when I told him I wasn't going to change my mind was really low of him.”

The emotions running across Finn's face was dizzying, and Kurt wanted nothing more than to reach out to his brother and try to make things right. He didn't though, because first of all Finn needed to learn how to stand on his own two feet, and second, it might be taken as a surrender.

And Kurt Hummel was  **not** surrendering.

“Just... Stay out of this, Finn. Please. High school is for another three and a half weeks. Family is for the rest of our lives. Just leave it.”

He could tell that Finn was wavering, and pushed a little, using a dirty trick.

“There should be a box of chocolate chip/pecan cookies at the back of the top freezer drawer. You should probably go eat them before dad finds them.”

“Cookies? Dude, thanks!” And just like that the boy left, just as noisily as he'd come, but thankfully without the anger and resentment.

Kurt sighed, looked at his laptop and then at the time, and resigned himself to studying once more.

 

~*~*~*~

 

“Excuse me, I need to borrow Kurt Hummel for a while.”

Kurt's head shot up, while his heart stopped. This was too familiar. Miss Pillsbury interrupting his French class, asking to see him, with a serious face?  _ Oh god... _

He didn't even wait for permission, just grabbed his things and stumbled out of the room. The second the door closed he turned on her, voice unsteady.

“Is he– My father... **What happened**?”

“Your father...? I don't...” And there, the coin dropped. Her entire face scrunched up, and she looked so guilty and apologetic he wanted to throw up. “Oh. Oh, Kurt, I'm sorry, your father is fine, at least as far as I know. I wanted to talk to you about something completely different. Why don't we go back to my office, do this privately?”

The walk to Miss Pillsbury's room was silent, and Kurt spent it fuming. With his father's health being out of the picture there really was only one thing that could have prompted this. Him leaving Glee club.

Mr Schuester had tried to talk him out of leaving. When that hadn't worked, he'd sent in Finn. Apparently the next step was Kurt being hauled in to see Miss Pillsbury as if he was some kind of troublemaker. It made him beyond angry. He hadn't done anything wrong. All he'd done was drop an extracurricular – one where he wasn't even allowed to really  **do** anything – and here he was, being punished for it. Because that's what it felt like, and in all honesty what it  **was** , a punishment.

_Good thing Mr Schue isn't a real teacher. God knows what he'd have done to me then._

He sat down in the chair, arranged himself comfortably and leveled the guidance counselor with a cold look. This was her show, so to speak, and he wasn't going to make it even the least bit easier on her.

“So, Kurt, first of all, I'm sorry that I gave you the wrong impression about this meeting. I didn't consider the implications, and I should have, after what happened last year.

“Mr Schuester approached me yesterday. He was very worried, since apparently you've acted very much unlike yourself for a few weeks now, and he asked me to talk to you, make sure you're not in any kind of trouble...? Is it bullying again? Because if it is, we have revised our guidelines, and I believe we will be able to help more this time–”

“Miss Pillsbury. Stop, please. I’m sorry if this sounds rude, but I don’t feel comfortable talking to you. If it is related to my classes, then yes, we can talk, but if this only about what Mr Schuester have said, then no.

“The changes in my behavior, if that is what you want to call what is going on, and what has caused them are all related to the Glee club. And with you being engaged to Mr Schuester, who is by no means an innocent bystander in this scenario...

“Let me be brutally honest. Me being dragged in to see you, for some sort of 'counseling', when I have done nothing wrong, doesn't lend itself to trust. How am I supposed to feel safe talking to you, to believe that you will keep my confidence, when all about this meeting comes off as having been orchestrated by your fiancé?”

Brutal, yes, and honest enough to get him into trouble. Still, it could be argued that he already  **was** in trouble, and there was no way he was going down quietly. As it was it came down to one thing: how dedicated Emma Pillsbury was to doing her job properly. If her personal life was more important than the wellbeing of a student, then he'd been doomed before he even opened his mouth. However, if she really did care, the way she claimed, then what he'd just said might have opened her mind enough to at least try and listen to him.

It was the only shot he had, anyway.

He'd certainly managed to shock her, that much was clear from the stunned look on her face, and he thought that might be a good sign. So, he sat quietly, running through French irregular verbs in his head, as she shifted around a few papers in an obvious attempt to clear her head and figure out what to say next.

“I...see. But Kurt? In here I’m your guidance counselor, not Will’s fiancée. I know I’m not perfect, and that I’ve made my share of mistakes in the past, but I do try to be professional. For what it’s worth I promise that if you **do** talk to me I will not be repeating anything you say – not to Will, and not to anyone else.

“The only thing that would cause me to break that promise would be if you gave me reason to believe you intend to hurt yourself or someone else. And in that case? I would not be talking to Will, I would be talking to your father.”

Kurt considered what she’d said. He still wasn’t 100 percent sure he could trust Miss Pillsbury – yes, she had covered for him that time he’d gotten drunk in school sophomore year, keeping him from getting into trouble, but that really hadn’t affected her. This was different. Having his back on this one could cause her some serious problems.

He could use someone to talk to though, and maybe she could get Mr Schuester to back off. That would be wonderful, and worth the risk.

“Okay. Short version? A couple of weeks ago I went to buy sheet music and met someone. No, not like that. He was just...someone like me. Gay, into music and fashion, applying to college in New York. We talked a little, and when he asked for my number I gave it to him.

“I didn’t do it because he was interested in me, because I had no intention of cheating on Blaine. I even told him I had someone, and wasn’t looking to replace him, and Chandler accepted that. I just... I needed someone. Blaine was acting distant, pulling away in school and canceling dates, and I felt lonely. Also, I was scared about going off to New York. Rachel and I have been getting a lot closer, and I know I could be a lot worse off than having her there with me, but she can be a little overwhelming.” _And that’s putting it mildly..._

“Chandler was someone who always seemed to have the time to send me a kind word or a joke, and the thought of having at least one more friendly face around made the prospect of moving to New York seem a little less scary.”

Because no matter what he said out loud, Kurt knew that in New York he would very much be a tiny little fish in a big ocean – one full of sharks. He wasn't one to make new friends easily, and the thought of having at least one more from the start had been intoxicating. The thought of having one that was unlikely to side with Rachel over him? Oh, priceless...

Not to mention the fact that the idea of sharing a flat with a newly wedded Rachel and Finn had been a little nauseating. Having a friend he could hide out with to avoid that could easily mean the difference between managing four years of cohabitation and committing murder.

“Then one night Blaine went through my phone. The first time we spent more than five minutes alone together outside of school in almost a month, and that’s what he did.” Yeah, he sounded bitter – he **was** , and for good reasons too. “He saw Chandler’s messages and decided then and there that it was cheating. He wouldn’t listen to what I had to say about any of it, and he refused to even talk about the fact that he had been doing the same thing just a little while before.

“The next day he called me a cheater in Glee, and generally made it sound as if he was breaking up with me. I went home, thought about our relationship and came to the conclusion that I was okay with us being over. So I packed up his things, made sure he got them back and went on with my life. Apparently I wasn’t allowed to do that.

“Practically every single one of the New Directions have had an opinion about my breakup. They’ve told me what I did wrong, how I should be ashamed for cheating, how to grovel for forgiveness... Just, all of them, butting in where they weren't welcome.

“It got to the point where I felt as if I couldn’t even breathe in the choir room. And that’s where Mr Schue decided to step in. He felt my issues with the others were threatening what chances New Directions would have at Nationals, and that meant I had to fix things. I felt it wasn’t just on me, and that he was refusing to see my side as usual, and decided I’d had enough.

“So I quit.”

Miss Pillsbury looked a little taken back, and was obviously searching for words. So he waited.

“And you think that was the right thing to do? You've been together for three years, and the rest of the members are your friends, are they not?”

Ah, yes. The friendship card.

“Let me be completely honest. Do you know why I joined the New Directions? I wanted to sing, yes, but that was never my main goal. I wanted a safe space, and I wanted friends. And do you know what happened? One of the first things Mr Schuester did was to invite the jocks and the cheerios, the same jocks and cheerios that had spent years bullying not just me but all of us, to join. And there went our safe space.

“As for friends... Yes, I made some friends. But they were... I guess you can call them fair weather friends. The minute they felt I was in the wrong they turned against me. Last year, when my father had his heart attack and ended up in a coma, they decided their way of dealing was more important than mine. I ended up having to defend my beliefs, or rather lack of, instead of being able to focus on what was important.

“I was terrified, Miss Pillsbury, because I knew that my father might die and leave me completely alone in the world, and instead of supporting me, my so-called friends were attacking me because I'm an atheist.

“And Mr Schuester? He **let** them. I had to go to coach Sylvester in order to get some peace.”

He took a deep breath, allowing his words to sink in.  **Sue Sylvester** had been more supportive of a Glee club member than William Schuester.

“And they keep doing that. Over and over and **over** , the same story every time. What I want, what I need, is never as important as what anyone else thinks. And I've had it. If they won't even take a minute to ask me for my side of the story, because they're too busy defending my ex – the guy none of them knew a year and a half ago, and that none of them could stand in the beginning – then they aren't really friends, are they?”

Saying it out loud hurt.  **So much** . He had hopes for Finn, yes, but they were family. Mercedes should come around, given time, especially since she'd never been that fond of Blaine, but. Their friendship had been rocky for some time. And Rachel... Oh, Rachel berry. She'd be his “best friend” in a hot minute should the two of them end up in New York together in the fall. Until they ended up competing over something, or Blaine moved to the city. Yeah. Looking at people without blinders was a bitch.

“Let me tell you a story.

“Last year at Nationals, Finn and Rachel had a meltdown of some kind and kissed on stage. And everyone blamed that for us not making the top ten. They were an easy target, you know. The fact that Mr Schuester completely dropped the ball was just swept under the rug. No set list until 12 hours before we walked on stage? Not a problem. Outfits that looked like lingerie? Again, not an issue. Our show choir director spending most of his time running around doing things that had nothing to do with Nationals, and leaving us almost completely unsupervised? Fiiiiine. The fact that our choreography was so basic it barely existed? **Also** no effect on our placing twelfth.

“Everything ended up being Finn and Rachel's fault, even though everyone knew, deep down, that them messing up was just the tip of the iceberg.

“And if I go back now, if I compete with them? That would be me. Anything goes wrong? Blame Kurt. It wouldn't matter if it was something as stupid as a broken nail – it would still end up being presented as my fault.

“And something will go wrong. They leave in a week, Miss Pillsbury, and as of two days ago they **still** didn't have a setlist. It's last year all over again, except this time Rachel Berry is going to be even more high-strung. So, something is bound to go wrong, meaning everyone will be looking for a scapegoat. And I have no desire for that to be.

“As I've said so many times now: I've **had** it with being harassed.”

Miss Pillsbury looked pole-axed, and clearly at a loss for words. Kurt was content to wait her out though, as he'd said his piece.

“ I might not be able to do anything about Blaine or your friends, but do you want me to talk to Will? Not... I don't mean to tell him about what we've talked about, but to ask him to back off?”

He thought about it. It  **would** be nice to be able to walk through the school without having to worry about being hounded by his ex coach, or his former teammates, but at the same time he wasn't sure it would be worth it. After all, the end of high school was so close.

“Thank you, but no. I don't want you to have to be in the middle of this any more than you've already been forced to,” and he could tell that his annoyance was obvious – _what had the man been_ _ **thinking**_ _?_ – and tried to soften his voice. “This is between me and them, and besides, I only have to deal with this for a little while longer. I'll be fine.”

He would be, because there was no acceptable alternative. He was Kurt Hummel, and he was never going to let Lima break him. Not ever.

Nothing about their talk had gone the way Miss Pillsbury had expected, that much was clear. She'd gone into this expecting something easy, he was sure, and had gotten a face-full of truths she had yet to work through – most of them concerning the man she was engaged to. Truly, Kurt didn't know whether to pity her – she had, after all, been dragged into something beyond her responsibilities – or crow with malicious glee at how he'd flattened her.

Yeah, he tended to be a bitchy at times.  _That's what being different in Lima will do to you – if it doesn't break you, it turns you into a bitch. And I'll take being a bitch any day._

On the other side of the desk Miss Pillsbury had apparently given up on trying to save their “meeting”. Good. Going back to French wasn't an option by now, it would be a waste of time, but he still had a long list of things to do, all of them more pleasurable that this.

“Kurt? I do want you to know my door is always open for you. You said that you don't want me to get involved with this Glee club thing, and I'm going to respect our wishes, but if there's **anything** I can do for you, don't hesitate to ask.”

He wanted to laugh. Long and hard and bitter. If there was anything she could do for him? Oh, Miss Pillsbury... She meant well, he truly believed that, but. Good intentions and all that. No matter how well meaning Emma Pillsbury was, the cold hard truth was that she had failed him just as thoroughly as all the other adults at McKinley.

There had been dozens of times he could have used her help, not the least of which had been the West Side Story casting – and she had failed to rise to the occasion every. single. time.

So. He was fine on his own. His grades were good, and he had a really good feeling about his finals. He'd aced his NYADA audition. Sure, his application hadn't been as strong as he would have liked, but it had gotten him this far.

The only reason he could see for him to need something from his guidance counselor would be if he wasn't accepted to NYADA, god forbid. However, if that should happen? He wouldn't go to Miss Pillsbury for help. No.

“At this point in time? I can't see that happening, Miss Pillsbury. After all, what help could I possibly need from my guidance counselor less than a month before graduation?”

He noted how she paled as his words hit, how her eyes widened even more and finally how a guilty flush took over, and he  **reveled** in it. She might not have meant to screw things up for him, but that didn't change the fact that she had.

“So no thank you. I've gotten this far on my own – I'm sure I can continue to manage. Your time would be better spent on the students where you can still make a difference, don't you think?”

“Oh. Of course, I...” She shook her head, made an obvious effort to focus, and started again. “I do realize that we, that **I** have failed you, and that you might not trust any of us to do better. I don't doubt your capability to take care of things yourself, you have, after all, had a lot of practice, but I can't help but think you shouldn't have to.

“If you change your mind, the offer still stands. Whatever you need, if I can help, I will. Even if it's just about finding a quiet space to eat lunch without being disturbed. I won't fail you again, Kurt, and I hope you'll trust that enough to come to me if you need my help. I hope you won't, though. Good luck, with everything.”

 

_ ~ TBC ~ _

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *takes cover*

The only thing that stopped Kurt from calling in sick the day after his “meeting” with Miss Pillsbury was the same thing that had kept him from doing so for the last four years: hiding at home meant letting the bullies win. The fact that the main culprit was a teacher this time, instead of a jock, didn't really change anything.

Besides. If he wanted to try and save any of his friendships – and he did, at least some of them – he needed to see what was happening, hear the whispers and rumors, needed to be there to defuse the worst of them if necessary.

So, to school it was.

 

“Kurt? Can we talk?”

He’d been ignoring everyone – because otherwise he might just do something he’d really, really regret (or end up being arrested for) – but this was Sam, with a quiet Mike on his tail, and Sam had always been decent to him. Mike...had mostly been. For sure, he'd never been awful. It was worth a try at least.

“About what?”

“Mr Schue said you quit Glee.” _Because of course he did, now that he realized that he's not going to be able to push me into going back. Does he think having everyone hounding me will help? When having_ _ **Finn**_ _do it didn't?_ _ **Idiot**_ _._ “Did you? **Why**? And why didn’t you tell us yourself? I thought we were supposed to be a family – at least that’s what you guys have been telling me since the beginning.”

“I thought so too, Sam, I really did.” He saw the look of confused hurt on Sam's face, and bent a little. Sam had stood up for him, and even if it hadn't helped, maybe that should entitle him to at least some explanation. “Family goes both ways, alright? Family is supposed to have your back – and that didn’t happen. That **never** happens for me. Remember last year when I came back from Dalton? When the Bullywhips followed me everywhere to keep me safe? Somehow the only one from Glee who joined was Santana, and she did it to serve her own interests.”

And yes, that still hurt. Before he’d left the others had talked about defending him, protecting him, and Kurt had been so tempted to trust them. To stay. In the end he’d been too scared – which he’d later decided had been a good thing. After all, if none of them had even  **tried** to join the Bullywhips, then how long would their protection have lasted?

“They weren’t exactly asking around for recruits, Kurt. It was the two of them from day one, and that’s how they seemed to want it.”

“And what about what **I** wanted? Or needed, for that matter? The more people who were willing to protect me, the safer I would have felt. And don’t pull the ‘they didn’t ask’ card, Sam. None of you offered. Not a single one of you. Before I left, yeah, but once I came back? Nothing. Family shouldn’t need to be asked to help out, should they?

“Family shouldn't mean I get all the responsibilities, all the duties, but none of the perks. And still that's what happens, every single time. Does that sound fair to you?”

“Kurt, I–” Sam fell silent, as he obviously processed what he was hearing. Maybe there was some hope for at least one gleek, when it came down to it. Maybe.

“It’s the same in this case. Family should have at least some level of trust – should have trusted me not to be a cheater. Or at least asked me for my side of the story. But no one did. They all sided with Blaine.”

“ **I** didn’t.” Oh, those puppy dog eyes.

“No, but you didn’t side with **me** either. And Sam? That **hurt**. Especially since I showed you those texts. You knew what they were about. You should have known I wasn’t cheating. Then again, this isn’t the first time I’ve been accused of cheating on Blaine, remember?” The other boy did, as Kurt well knew, since it had been Sam who Kurt had supposedly cheated with. It was obvious in Sam’s face exactly how well he remembered, and his growing understanding of what Kurt was implying with his words.

“Why aren’t you fighting this then? If you didn’t do anything, if it never went beyond those silly texts I saw, why are you **taking** it?”

“They were all there, Sam. With the exception of Rory, Joe and Sugar **everyone** in that room was present last year to hear me say I wasn’t cheating. I protested loudly. And not a single one of them believed me.

“It took you telling them things they had no business knowing for them to back off and believe me. Afterwards they all apologized, told me they should have listened, should have known better. Well,” he amended, “everyone but Rachel. **She** just told me I had to forgive her because she was only looking out for Blaine and Finn. Oh, and then she told me to give her money.”

That had actually made him even more irritated than her accusing him of cheating. She’d arranged for the club to get Sam his guitar back as an apology – and expected Kurt to be a part of said apology.

“But you had nothing to apologize for!” Sam protested when hearing exactly why Rachel had wanted the money. “You, along with Quinn, stood up for me. The two of you took the time to not only notice that something was wrong, but also to help. Why should **you** have to be a part of some elaborate apology brought on by Rachel being a bitch?”

_Exactly_ .

“I don’t know, and honestly, by now I don’t really care. But the point is, we’ve already done this, Sam. After everything that was said and done last year they still believe the same thing again. All their promises to stand by me? Didn’t mean a thing. And if they’re so willing to make me a villain on Blaine’s say-so? Then why should I bother trying to persuade them otherwise? It wasn’t worth the effort then. It wouldn’t be this time either.”

Sam rocked back on his heels, clearly not expecting to hear Kurt sound so bitter – so cold and determined.

“What? Are you saying that being friends with us aren't worth your time?”

Kurt stayed silent, looking deep into first Sam's and then Mike's eyes. He wasn't sure he liked what he saw in either pair, and by the looks of it neither did either of the boys.

Mike had been quiet the whole time, and Kurt had to say he wasn't quite sure why he'd been present. He could understand Mike's behavior in the choir room though –  **that** was relatively easy. Mike had a lot on his mind right now, with finals, Nationals and college. The Changs might have agreed to let Mike pursue dancing, but he was still supposed to get straight As in all of his classes, making finals very important.

Plus, Tina. With her only being a junior come autumn the couple would be forced apart, wishes be damned. They might try and maintain a long distance relationship, might even succeed, but it would take a lot out of them. Kurt knew exactly what it would take – he had, after all, planned on doing exactly that.

And even if they were still in the same place that knowledge was a heavy burden.

Add to that the fact that Tina was facing a senior year with not only Mike but most of her friends gone, and Blaine one of the few who would remain? Yeah. Kurt was far from blind to how that had made them grow a little closer even now. And that, in turn, was bringing **Mike** and Blaine closer.

Forget being friends with Kurt first. He'd been replaced, in basically every way except as his father's son, by Blaine. And didn't **that** hurt?

And most of that was true for Sam as well. Blaine had been **awful** to Sam when he'd first returned, yet Sam had taken to him like a duck to a water. Now they had the kind of friendship that Kurt had wanted for **himself** and Sam. The kind that he'd believed they could have, if Kurt hadn't backed away, scared by Finn's predictions and his dad's worry. Of course, Sam hadn't exactly tried to change things. He'd been too wrapped up in girls and football and what popularity a Glee kid could get.

No. They weren't worth his time and energy. Not as it was. Should either of them, or any of the others choose to fight for his friendship, instead of just fighting him... **Then** they could talk. As it was, neither boy were on his shortlist of relationships he wanted to salvage.

“Am **I** worth **your** time and energy, Sam? Mike?”

And **that** was clearly a question neither of them had expected. It was so like all of them, he thought, demanding and pushing, and never thinking about how it looked from the other side.

Of course, now that Sam had worked up the nerve to talk about it – not to mention gotten a hint that maybe things weren't exactly as Blaine had presented them – he wasn't just going to give up.

“We could work on it. Together. You could come with us to prom.”

The laugh that escaped Kurt was startled, and not exactly pretty. Go to p **rom** with them?

“Are you serious? Prom? In which one of your alternate realities, Sam, would I want to go to prom at all? Have you completely forgotten the utter clusterfuck that was last year's prom? Or do you somehow think that all the culprits have left McKinley?

“I never wanted to go this year. Oh, I would have, to spend the evening with you guys, and because I knew Blaine would want to.” And that, right there, should have been a warning sign, because last year he'd had to **beg** Blaine to come with him – not that he didn't understand the other boy's fear – yet it had been assumed Kurt would go without argument this year, without as much as a thought to **his** negative experience at a dance.

“You could still go with the rest of us. It'd... It'd be like in 'American Graffiti'! One last night with the old gang, making us remember why we're together in the first place.”

Bless Sam Evans and his dorky positivism, and bless him even more for remembering that Kurt had a soft spot for said movie, but.

“I could do that. Could, but won't. It would mean spending the entire evening waiting for a repeat of last year, which honestly? Not my idea of fun. Neither, by the way, is the idea of having the lot of you harassing me. I've had it up to here when it comes to being told I should crawl back to Blaine – I don't need to hear it again.

“Plus, do you really expect me to believe that Blaine won't be there as a part of your group?”

And **that** truly was the deal breaker. He could, he supposed, have gone along with the idea, just to try and fix things to some degree, but to expose himself to Blaine? No way. He already knew how that would play out.

“So no. Now, when I don't have to think about anyone else's wishes? Now I'm going to do what **I** want, and that's staying as far away from prom as I possibly can.”

Sam looked like he wanted to argue more, and it even looked like Mike was going to start talking, but Kurt had had it. He looked at both of them, with one eyebrow sarcastically raised, and just shook his head.

“I don't want to argue. But, I truly have had it with being hounded and harassed over the fact that I'm looking out for myself. I'm not saying all our friendships are broken beyond repair, I'm not, but it's going to take a lot more than an evening together at some silly dance I don't even want to go to.

“Just... Please try and understand. I need to be my own first priority. And I can't have anyone around that won't respect that.”

As he walked away he mentally reviewed the calendar.

There were only three – and a half – days of school left before the New Directions were to leave, and a weekend in the middle of those days. He'd get five days of peace during Nationals, and after that there would only be two more weeks.

He could power through. He could deal. It was, after all, the story of his life, wasn't it? “Kurt Hummel – dealing with shit.”

 

The days moved slower now. No Glee. No boyfriend (not that he really missed Blaine, but the ex-Warbler  **had** taken up quite a lot of his time). No  **friends** . And no David. The only thing Kurt really had to focus on these days was studying, and so he did. By the time the New Directions came home from Chicago Kurt was so far ahead that all he needed to do for the remainder of the school year – all two weeks of it – was show up. (He might even get away not doing that in some classes.) He'd even handed in the extra credit assignments he'd never even thought about completing.

Having Finn out of the house completely for a couple of days had been a blessing. He'd taken full advantage; leaving his door open, eating in the kitchen, watching TV on the big screen in the living room... Yeah. A blessing. He'd also taken the time to pack up his winter gear, go through his papers and books, box up the essentials for settling in a new place and generally preparing to leave.

When the Glee club returned, victorious, Kurt braced himself for the inevitable envy and regret. That could have been him as a Nationals winner, being applauded in the hallways, accepted for once.

The feeling never came.

Of course, he'd already been there, as a Cheerio – and as someone who'd actually been instrumental to winning – which was most likely part of why. The biggest reason however, he soon realized, was that Glee didn't mean the same to him as it had. It wasn't his safe space, nor the members his family, not any longer. Sure, it would have been nice to add a Nationals win to his resumé, to go out with a bang, but it wasn't important.

What was important was that he'd been too unhappy for a win to be worth it. **He'd been too unhappy for Glee** , and wasn't that the saddest thing?

He still took the time to congratulate those few ND members he actually spoke to though, since being petty just for the sake of it wasn't something that appealed to him, and made sure to make a batch of Finn's favorite cupcakes as an extra “congratulatory treat”. They might be fighting, sure, but Finn had helped win Nationals, and that was a pretty big deal that deserved at least baked goods. (And no, he wasn't tempted to substitute sugar for salt or something that mean. Not at all. He did use real butter though, to make them inedible for Rachel. If Finn still gave her some... Not Kurt's problem.)

It all came to a stop Thursday.

Having the Misters Berry show up during first period and pull Rachel out of class was pretty telling, but still. It  **could** have been about something other than NYADA, like say, her ill advised wedding. It wasn't of course, as Rachel made sure to let everyone know the second she returned to the class room.

She'd gotten in.

That meant there should be a letter for him as well. Kurt shivered, then locked down his emotions. His application wasn't stellar, no, and he definitely didn't have the wealth of solos that Rachel had – or the lead in a school play, for that matter. He **did** have the Cheerios though, and his Nationals performance.

Plus. His application had clearly been enough to get him a coveted finalist spot. After that, surely it would be more about an applicant's talent and audition than about their extra curricular. _Right?_ When it came to talent he was mostly Rachel's equal – opportunity to show that or not – and he **had** done exceptionally well during his audition, unlike her.

Surely if she had gotten in, so had he.

Only, apparently not everyone seemed to share that thought. Between first and second period he caught several pitying glances, mostly from various members of the New Directions, but also from others. He wanted to go borrow coach Sylvester's megaphone and scream out the fact that unlike Rachel Berry, not everyone was incapable of keeping personal business to themselves.

Kurt scoffed. As if he'd tell anyone at McKinley about getting his letter. Not before calling his dad, and Carole, and – of course – David. Maybe not even after that. Even if he'd gotten a letter before going to school there was no way he'd be spreading the news – like Rachel, who'd texted the news to what looked like her entire phone book, **and** had had Jacob ben Israel post it on his blog, before returning to class – with people he didn't care about before sharing with his loved ones.

He was debating the merits of going home during his lunch break to loot the mail box when he exited his second period. He blamed that for his failure to notice Blaine, who was – more or less – laying in wait for him, and for allowing the other boy to corner him.

“Kurt! I wanted to tell you how sorry I am.”

“You did?” Kurt was stunned. This was...unexpected. Apologies were **not** Blaine's strong suit, and by the time of the breakup Kurt had more or less given up on getting one **he** deemed acceptable.

“Yes. I know how badly you wanted to get into NYADA. Getting rejected must really hurt.” Kurt stared. _What the..._

“And I want you to know I'm going to support you fully for next year, if you decide you want to apply again. Though, to be honest, you should probably look at some other schools and such, since apparently Madame Tibideaux really doesn't believe in giving out second chances.”

_What the **fuck** is he saying? And no second chances? What was that with her giving Rachel **three** chances then?_

“Anyway, I just want you to know that I've talked to Mr Schue, and he's willing to let you come in and work with the Glee club next year, help out with costumes and such, so you can bolster your application, and I have already made a list of–”

“Blaine?”

“Yes?” Fucking puppy dog look.

“What gave you the idea that I wasn't accepted to NYADA?”

“Well, it **was** kind of a long-shot, and with the letters coming out and you being quiet–”

“Me getting accepted was a 'long-shot'? Funny. That's not what you said when we were dating. Then again, there were a number of things you didn't say back then, I suppose. Still, me not telling everyone unfortunate to stand still long enough – or not run fast enough, I guess – about getting accepted the way Rachel is is **not** the same as me not getting in.

“With the way things are, and have been, why would I want to share that with anyone **here**?

“Also, even if I were not not be accepted, why would I want to hang around **McKinley** for a year? There are a ton of things that would be smarter to spend that time on, should someone need to reapply to college.”

“Come on, Kurt. I know you feel the need to keep a good front up with the jocks and such, but this is me. You don't have to pretend with me.

“Besides, this could be a really good thing. You'll work with the Glee club, and we can get back together, and go to New York together once I graduate. Just like it should be. It'll be great, you'll see.”

Kurt only just managed to hold back a furious scream. Had Blaine always been like this, and he'd been too blind to notice, or had the boy slowly lost all connection to reality when it came to Kurt?

“Blaine. Shut up. I'm not going to have this talk with you again, okay. We're over, we're not getting back together, and I'm not spending five seconds more that I absolutely have to at McKinley.” Nor in Lima, but that was another thing, and none of Blaine's business.

“And as for me being or not being accepted to NYADA, well. There's no reason for me to tell you, or anyone else from the New Directions, is there? It's got absolutely nothing to do with any of you, especially **you** , and that means I don't have to share. Now for the last time, leave me alone, please.”

For a moment Kurt lamented the fact that Blaine hadn't waited by his locker – that way he could have tried to slam the door shut on the boy's hands – and actually contemplated slamming the heel of his boot into the boy's foot. Just for a moment though, before he reigned in his violent tendencies with a quiet sigh and settled for walking away.

Blaine didn't believe he would have been accepted. The boy he'd planned on spending his life with didn't believe in him, in his talent, and hadn't said a word about it – not even when it could have made a difference, say, like when Kurt had been applying to college.

If Blaine had told him then not to pin all of his hopes on NYADA – which had been beyond stupid, he knew that, okay – or even on performing... He would have been hurt, sure, but he would have listened. He would have listened, and then he would have applied elsewhere, and then maybe he would already have an acceptance letter or three, and not be so damned **scared** now.

But maybe – and the thought was like a slap in the face – maybe Blaine had kept quiet for just that reason? It sounded insane, but. Blaine never had liked the idea of the two of them being separated for a year. With how he'd just described Kurt getting rejected as a good thing, maybe he **had** stayed silent in the hopes of exactly that.

And the fact that Kurt was capable of even thinking that, of for even a second believing Blaine was capable of that? Was an excellent example of why they were never getting back together, no matter what.

Kurt skipped lunch and drove home. He was too upset to eat anyway, and he knew there was no chance of him concentrating on classes – or not snapping at people looking, or asking – before he knew. Rachel Berry had been accepted to NYADA. **After** bombing her audition. Surely that meant there had to be an acceptance letter waiting for him too, seeing as he'd actually nailed his. Right?

There was a letter at least. He opened the envelope with shaking fingers and pulled out the single sheet of paper inside. And stared.

“ _...regret to inform you...”_

He hadn't gotten in.


	10. Chapter 10

He kept staring at the letter in his hand. It still said the same though, no matter how many times he read it. Kurt Hummel had not been accepted at NYADA.

He'd done everything in his power, and he still hadn't gotten in. Rachel had, but not he.  _She_ _**blew** _ _the audition, and had to resort to_ _**stalking** _ _the dean, and somehow that got her a spot? How does that make any sense?_

It...was beyond his ability to comprehend. Yes, he knew his application could have, **should have** been stronger, had know so all year, but surely if that was so important – important enough to negate his audition – then he should never have been picked as a finalist at all. The evidence, however, pointed to exactly that. His audition hadn't mattered. **Rachel's** audition hadn't mattered.

Because if they had? Then things would be looking very much different, wouldn't they?

So. What the fuck was he going to do now? Breaking down was **not** an option. Not just because there was school to get back to in, he checked the time, much too soon for that, but because it wasn't productive. Kurt **needed** to be productive.

Right now was a time for action, not tears. He could cry over his dashed hopes later – it was, after all, what dark rooms, locked doors and pillows late at night were for.

Kurt focused on his breathing first, taking slow, deep breaths that would help him reign in his volatile emotions. Once he had achieved that, he made himself busy, brewing a cup of green tea, while trying to line up and run down his options.

First of all, he needed to decide whether or not to reapply to NYADA. While Blaine had said that Madame Tibideaux didn't like it when students reapplied, Kurt had no idea if this was true or not. He was certainly not going to take **Blaine's** word for it. That way lay only disaster, he was sure. Still, there **were** other options. Other schools for performing arts, or even going the alternate route of not going to college, to try and make it without that safety net – or there was fashion.

But. He wanted this. Wanted NYADA, even though he hadn't even known about the school a year ago. _I guess that's question 1 answered then._

He'd read up on the school after Miss Pillsbury had handed over her pamphlets, and knew that while they did admit applicants halfway through the school year in theory, in reality only about 5 percent of the student body had been allowed to start in January.

Still, it was a chance. Reapplying for a January admission would give him roughly six months to pad his resumé, he just needed to figure out how. And to do that he needed to first figure out with what.

It was possible he'd been rejected because Madame Tibideaux didn't think he'd make it as a performer – he had, after all, been told on multiple occasions that his range and his preferences limited him. If that was the case... Well. Being different was something Kurt was proud of, and not something he was going to even try to change about himself. It was also something he thought could serve him well – he might not be as versatile as some, but he would stand out, and that was not a bad thing when it came to performing arts.

And if Madame Tibideaux hadn't seen that, had in fact rejected him for it, well, then his esteem of her would plummet.

If, however, she felt he was lacking as a dancer or a singer, that he could – probably – do something about. He knew that he hadn't had even half the formal training most applicants had, both because of money and because he lived in Lima, but that he could fix.

Before he did so he needed to know though, and there was an easy way how. He could call the Madame herself.

It was a slightly terrifying prospect, but. It meant getting the answers to all his questions, and in one place as well, and who knew? Maybe his devotion would impress her, and weigh in his favor next time.

He looked at the time. Thirty seven minutes until class began, ten of which he'd need to actually get to class. That left him roughly 25 minutes for the call. He could do that. _And if she needs more time than that to explain why I'm not suited for NYADA, then I really don't think I want or_ _ **need**_ _to hear it all._

While looking up the number for NYADA on his phone Kurt also pulled out a couple of energy bars and sandwich fixings – there likely wouldn't be any time for a proper lunch, and he needed **something** in order to make it through the afternoon. _Oh, and I need a paper for taking notes..._

Once he was done he swallowed the last of his tea, took a deep breath, and dialed.

“Carmen Tibideaux.”

“Madame Tibideaux, good day. This is Kurt Hummel, from Lima, Ohio. I–”

“Mr Hummel. You auditioned for NYADA. 'Not the Boy Next Door', correct?”

“Yes, madame.”

“All acceptance letters have been sent out. If you haven't received yours it should arrive in a day or two, no more.”

“Yes, madame, I am aware. I did, in fact, receive mine today, which happens to be why I'm calling. I wasn't accepted, and I was hoping you'd be willing to give me a few pointers as to why, so I'll know what to work on.”

Because he **was** going to make it, the Madame's opinion on second chances – and, he assumed, second auditions _that aren't Rachel Berry's_ , be damned. And if he still wasn't accepted into NYADA? He'd make it anyway. Kurt Hummel was getting out of Lima and he was going to shine, and **nothing** was going to be allowed to stand in his way.

There was a silence at the other end that dragged out and almost made him scream “say something!”. Only his teeth clamping down on his bottom lip stopped him.

“Mr Hummel...

“Your grades are good. Your resumé however is, as I'm sure you know, weak. While your audition piece was impressive, I was concerned with the insecurity you showed – I was given your song choice when I arrived, and the fact that you apparently ended up changing your mind about what to perform right before going on stage was...slightly troublesome. It **was** a bold move, yes, and a very good performance. And while 'The Music of the Night' has been done to death, I have never had anyone audition with 'Not the Boy Next Door' before, making it a much better choice.

“That still doesn't change the fact that in changing your song that close to the actual performance you showed a hesitation I'd rather not see in a performer.”

_I wonder how she'd feel if she knew that that's how things always are in New Directions. Or that Rachel decided to back out of helping almost as late._

“In the end, however, it came down to character. NYADA is a tough school. We are not just looking for the best and brightest; we are also looking for students who can be trusted to make the most of what we're offering. Who can, shall we say, absorb the learning we provide without letting their egos stand in the way.”

Kurt almost choked on air. _And you accepted_ _ **Rachel Berry**_ _?_ He bit down hard on his lip in order to keep the incredulous words from spilling out. Because as tempting as it was to question the sanity of **that** , that wasn't why he'd called. He'd wanted answers, but so far he'd only gotten more questions.

“I am aware that performers as a whole tend to lean towards diva attitude, and I rarely hold that against them, but there are lines.

“To be brutally honest, Mr Hummel, and since you asked I will be, the truth is that your behavior has crossed that line repeatedly in the past, and in a way that makes it impossible for me to in good conscience give you a place at NYADA.”

Kurt was sure he was hallucinating. Or that the Madame was pulling his leg. He was too much of a diva for NYADA? **He** , but not Rachel? He felt a hysterical laughter rise, and forced it down, drawing instead on the unperturbed persona he'd perfected during years of bullying.

“And exactly what behavior would that be, Madame?”

“I was most worried, and appalled, to hear about your actions during your junior year.” _What the_ – “While I commend ambition, and would never stand in the way of a performer fighting for a role, or a solo, there are, as I said, limits to what I find acceptable.

“Transferring schools, leaving your choir hanging, chasing something 'better' is deplorable. I could, perhaps, have had some understanding for doing so once, with Dalton Academy being a clearly superior school, but twice in less than six months? That goes well beyond 'ambitious', crossing into mercenary, and quite frankly? **That** I am not prepared to have at my school.”

Yes, he had to be hallucinating. **Had** to be. Either that, or...

“The fact that you then walked out on your team again for Nationals this year, for some imagined spite only confirmed that not admitting you was the right decision. NYADA trains its students to be stars, yes, but we also expect everyone to be able to work in the background, and as a part of a whole. Simply put: be it a Broadway show, an in-house concert or a paying job dancing in the background of a movie scene, being a performer means having to be reliable. It means having the kind of work ethic that allows your colleagues to trust that you will show up and do your job, and not make them scramble at the last minute to replace you.

“And you, Mr Hummel, have – on two separate occasions – forced your team to replace you on short notice, with everything that means in terms of finding a new soloist,” _And now I'm supposed to have been a_ _ **soloist**_ _? When did_ _ **that**_ _happen, and where was I?_ “and remaking the set lists. Had this been a student under my care, the first such instance would have resulted in a warning, and the second in a recommendation that said student look over their future – preferably not at NYADA.

“I could have overlooked your lack of experience and training in favor of talent, which I will readily admit you have, but I cannot overlook a pattern of behavior that goes against everything I look for in a student. That, I should think, is not unreasonable.”

Kurt shook his head. Oh, it was very reasonable, very understandable. He could agree with everything she was saying – or he would have, had she not been sprouting absolute nonsense.

He wrestled his emotions under control – yes, screaming at the woman and telling her exactly what he thought of her would be very satisfying, but it would also be stupid and contra productive. He needed to be calm, and logical, and set things straight without exploding. He needed to not make an enemy – or more of one, he guessed – of Carmen Tibideaux, as she was his ticket out of Lima and into NYADA.

She **had** said she thought he was talented, and had hinted rather strongly that she'd been about to overlook everything else in favor of that. Surely she'd still be willing to do that once she realized the truth?

First of all he needed to confirm his suspicions.

“I assume it was Rachel Berry telling you this?” Oh, he was going to **crush** her. Exactly which 'her' he meant was uncertain he realized – though he found he was leaning towards both Rachel and Madame Tibideaux.

“Yes. Now, I am not blind to the rivalry between applicants, nor to the lengths some will go to in order to get in. Even though I've only held this position for a few months I have heard more than a few horror stories and tall tales.

“Normally I would have doubted a student bringing me this kind of information, especially since you and Miss Berry could be seen as being in direct competition with each other. However, she was lucky enough to have your choir director – or should I say your **former** choir director? – confirm her story.”

And that...complicated things. Rachel had been smart, he had to give her that. With Mr Schuester – and dammit, Kurt didn't think much of the man, but **this** was lower than he would ever have believed him capable of – backing her up, Kurt was at an impasse.

He did have one card left, an ace, but... His brain was much too good at coming up with worst case scenarios, realistic ones, and he knew he couldn't play that one. _Looks like I'll have to fold. For now, at least._

“I see.” _Well. I still have fifteen minutes, so. In for a penny...._ Ice Queen persona firmly at the front Kurt opened his mouth, readying himself for a large bite of sour apple. “Anything else you feel I should hear?”

 

Ten minutes later he hung up, and pried the fingers of his left hand open, absentmindedly massaging the marks from his nails. He felt numb, a feeling reminiscent of all those hours waiting at the hospital, hoping that his father would wake up.

All his hopes and dreams pinned on NYADA, all wrecked in the space of less than an hour. And oh god, how it hurt. Not just the rejection, because as bad as that was it was also not quite true, based on lies as it had been. The betrayal hurt more, as did the knowledge of the pleasure his failure to get into college would bring the people that had said he'd never make it.

_Blaine knew about this._ In the next instant his mind flashed from there to _Blaine **caused** this._ And there was no doubt. Blaine had known – his behavior earlier, his entire speech screamed it – and even if he hadn't been involved, even if he'd only known because Rachel had told him, he was still the cause of all this.

Rachel's primary reason for sabotaging his application **had to** have been to further her own chances, with the same being true for Mr Schue helping her. But, Kurt knew deep in his bones, they'd also done it to punish him. For leaving the New Directions, for not falling in line and doing as they wished, and for breaking up with Blaine.

“Damn them! Damn them all!”

His scream echoed between the walls, his chest heaved and his eyes burned. The people who had claimed to be family had stabbed him in the back. Mr “Teacher of the Year”, Mr “I'm here for you” had sold him out. The girl fighting for the position of his best friend had torn him down. And the boy he'd loved, who he'd thought less than six months ago was about to propose – and who he would have had said yes to – who had sworn he loved Kurt... That boy had let them. Had **helped** them.

The ache inside intensified, and for a moment Kurt worried that he'd inherited his father's heart issues. And then he knew. It was heart related, yes, but not in a way a hospital could do anything about.

It was his heart breaking again. It was the remnants of his friendships burning to ash.

It was everything he'd loved for the past three years breaking beyond salvage, and it was taking everything he had to keep standing.

 

Kurt picked up his things without thinking and walked out to the Nav. No matter what had happened he needed to go back to school, and act like nothing was wrong. It seemed impossible, but at the same time Kurt knew it wasn't. He'd done exactly that for years, and had managed to fool just about everyone, including family and friends, even on the days he'd been contemplating ending it all. When push came to shove, this was no different. It should be easier, even, with how it was almost over. Five more days of classes, and then graduation. He could keep it together for six days, right?

Except he didn't think he could. Hell, he couldn't even bring himself to start the car.

Going back to McKinley was going back to Hell, and Kurt had lost the strength needed to do so.

His head fell forward, leaning against the steering wheel, and he started shaking. _Fuck. Fuck, fuck,_ _ **fuck**_. He couldn't do this. He just couldn't. He'd been able to walk into Hell on Earth day after day because he'd believed that it would, in fact, get better. Not in Lima maybe, but once high school was over and he got out. And now he didn't have that any longer. He had absolutely no idea what to do, no belief and no direction, and without that he also had no strength.

_How the hell did I let Rachel talk me into thinking this was a good idea? How could I let myself end up without a backup plan?_

A dry sob passed his lips, and he could feel tears welling up. No. He was not going to cry. Not now.

He forced himself to uncurl, forced himself to sit up straight and take deep slow breaths, and tried to gather his scattered thoughts. It was hard, and he ended up pulling out his phone and turning on some music. Music had been a part of his life for as long as he could remember, had helped him more times than he could count. Hopefully it could help one more time.

Soon he was moving with the rhythm, humming along, feeling his pulse slow down.

And then his brain caught up with what was playing. Huh. _That...could work._ One idea lead to another, his thoughts leaping from point to point, coming up with what could actually be a viable plan.

He picked up his phone again, tapped out a message, and then started the car. The time for panic and self-pity was over. Now it was time to fix things.

 

“Miss Pillsbury? Do you have a minute?”

“Of course. Come in, Kurt.”

He walked in, closed the door behind him, and sat down stiffly. It had only been a few weeks since his last visit, since what he'd intended to be his last ever visit, and yet there he was, swallowing his pride.

“You said, if there was something you could help with...” He hadn't intended to take her up on it, but. Circumstances had changed, hadn't they, and he was out of options.

Apparently him asking made Miss Pillsbury happy for some reason, her entire body radiating relief.

“Yes. Definitely. As long as it's in my power, whatever you need.”

“Something has come up, and well. Could you see if it'd be possible for me to miss a couple of days of school?”

His request confused her, that much was obvious, and yeah, that was understandable. After all, school was almost over.

“Ye-e-e-s, I can do that. I'm assuming it's important, if it can't wait until after next Friday? How many days are we talking?”

“Uuuuuh, well, all of them actually. I know it's a bit...unorthodox, but it's only six days, others” and they both knew who he meant “has missed almost as much, recently, and I'm done with all of my finals **and** I've handed in every assignment that we've been given. I can't see anything happening in those days that should have an impact on my grades.

“And to be honest? I **need** this. I need to leave, now, before–” _before someone manages to talk me into staying, before_ _ **I**_ _manage to convince myself that it's a good idea, before I start believing I'll never get out of here, before I get trapped._

_Before I start believing I should agree to whatever it is Blaine's planning._

And that, right there, was the reason for his need to run as fast and as far as he could. Blaine, and his own damn tendency to let Blaine talk him into things he should know better than to agree with. What Blaine had done was unforgivable – and yet, Kurt **knew** that given even half a chance Blaine would twist things around enough that Kurt would forgive him.

Hell, he might even end up blaming himself. He'd done his best to not fall into that trap since the breakup, yes, but after the blow he'd just received... He was strong, but everyone's strength could falter.

He bit down on his lip, stopping the thoughts and trapping the words inside. Miss Pillsbury's wide eyes and understanding expression made it beyond clear she realized at least some of what was running through his head anyway. Chances were she'd seen hundreds of kids in his position, or a version of it at least, so she should get where he was coming from.

He even saw her begin to reach out for him, before stopping halfway. Good. He didn't do too well with touch outside of his loved ones, and the way he was feeling there was a risk he'd freak out – or start crying.

“Okay. I can do that. Now, McKinley **does** have a policy to not grant extended leave without good reasons, but between your record, the fact that we're so close to graduation – and you're right, nothing happening in class those days should have any impact what so ever on your grades – and my recommendation it shouldn't be a problem.

“Let me talk to your teachers, and get back to me at the end of the day, okay? Good, see you then Kurt. Oh! Are you going to make it to class, or do I need to sign a pass for you?”

He looked at the time. Three minutes. Enough to make it to class, even if there'd be no time to swing by his locker. _Not that I really want to. Who knows who's laying in wait for me this time._

“No, I'll be fine. See you later, Miss Pillsbury.”

As he walked to class he heard his phone chirp, and pulled it up to check the message. It made him smile, for the first time that day.

_From: David_

_To: Kurt_

_Anytime._

 

Weeks of tearing his former Glee mates to pieces when they approached him was finally paying off, Kurt noticed gratefully, as he managed to get through the rest of the day without interruptions. After the final bell he went straight to Miss Pillsbury's office.

She met him with a smile, and he relaxed a little. Surely she wouldn't smile like that had she failed.

“Kurt! Good news. Every one of your teachers agreed to let you be absent for the rest of the semester, meaning that as of now you're free to leave. Your diploma will be sent to you, at the address we have on file, and should you need anything else all you need to do is call me.”

“Thank you, Miss Pillsbury. You have no idea how much this means to me. I really, really am grateful to you for doing this for me.”

“It was the least I could do, really. And to be honest, we all appreciate that you asked. Most students would have called in sick, with how few days remain.”

Kurt just nodded. He'd considered that option, but had discarded it almost as quickly. It would have been easier in some ways, sure, but in the end it would have led to more trouble.

“Well, that leaves me with only one thing to say. Good luck, Kurt. I really do wish you the best.”

“Thank you.”

As he was about to walk out the door he changed his mind, closed it again, and turned around. What he was about to do was petty, yes, but he was tired of trying to be the better person and getting trampled on as thanks.

“Miss Pillsbury? I was thinking... There is one more thing you could help me with, if it's not too much of a bother...”

“Of course not! I'd be happy to help, any way I can.”

“In that case, do you think you could call Madame Tibideaux, at NYADA, and explain the details regarding my transfer to Dalton to her?”

He saw her flinch a little, and her eyes went sad. He didn't like manipulating her like this, but it was the only way he could see.

“Yes, I can do that. Is it for a scholarship or something? I'll call her at once.”

“Something like that. But, ehm, don't call now.” Because that would put a wrench in his plans. He needed more time before that particular bomb went off. “Monday or Tuesday would be good, though any day next week will work.”

She nodded, and Kurt bit back a triumphant evil grin.

_Shots fired._

 

Finn wasn't home, as was his habit most days now, and Kurt relished in the peace and quiet. He was going to make the most of it, starting with a phone call – one he definitely didn't want anyone to overhear.

“Dad?”

“Kurt! I wasn't expecting a call now. Did something happen? Oh! Did you get your NYADA letter?”

His dad's voice went from worry to obvious excitement, and Kurt felt tears force themselves to the surface. This had been supposed to be a happy moment, damn it.

“Yeah. Yeah, you could say that. I didn't get in.”

“What? Are they insane?” And there it was, the Burt Hummel Papa Bear fury (TM). It warmed Kurt's heart, even if it did nothing to erase the hurt he was feeling.

“I should probably tell you how you're not allowed to say that, but yeah, I kind of think they are. Rachel got in, after everything, and I didn't.”

“What?”

“Yeah. Oh, and it gets better. Apparently, between stalking the dean and harassing her into attending Nationals, Rachel also took the time to sabotage me. Told Madame Tibideaux a bunch of lies, got Mr Schuester to back her up, and voilá. One rejection letter, for one Kurt Hummel.”

Saying it out loud **hurt**.

Telling his dad the whole sordid story, while trying to stay as calm and detached as possible, did nothing to ease that hurt. Hearing his dad threaten both Carmen Tibideaux and Rachel, however, did.

“...and just you wait until I get my hands on that woman, I'll–”

_Oh no._

“Dad, no. You can't.”

“I **can't**? **She** can't, Kurt! You're telling me this lady screwed you over, based on lies, and I'm just supposed to shut up and **accept** that? No way, kiddo. No one pushes the Hummels around, okay, and I think it's time people start realizing that.

“Now, I might not be some fancy arts person, but I do have some connections, some leverage here, what with being a US senator and all.”

“And that's exactly why you can't do anything, dad. Don't you get it?” Because yes, his dad did have some power, and yes, Burt Hummel was that ace in the sleeve that NYADA didn't expect Kurt to have. But, as his luck would have it, it wasn't a card he could play.

“Don't you see, if you do this, if you call NYADA and go all threatening parent on them, pulling rank? That could ruin you. No, listen to me, listen, dad! If you approach them as a US senator, demanding that they take another look at my application, claiming I was treated unfairly... They won't. In fact, I'm pretty sure they'll do the opposite, because really, that's the only option they will have. NYADA – hell, any college really – can't afford to get a reputation for accepting students based on how powerful their parents are.”

“That's not what this is about, Kurt. You should have been accepted on your own merits, or didn't you just tell me Tibideaux said as much? That you weren't, that's because she fucked up, and that has nothing to do with me.”

“But that's what it'll look like to everyone else.” Oh, he wished it wasn't that way, that he could just go along with what his dad wanted and let someone else shoulder the burden, but he couldn't. His dad was in a position to do some real good, and Kurt getting into college was not a good enough reason to risk that.

“The only way you calling will help is if Madame Tibideaux admits to what she did, and honestly? That's not very likely. I'm pretty sure she's not allowed to let what amounts to gossip influence the admittance process, and that it's her position on the line if it gets out that she did.

“So it'll be her word against mine, and in my experience? That never goes well for me.

“And even if she does confess? Best case scenario has me getting admitted after all, sure, but also sharing classes with Rachel, because they won't be allowed to withdraw her acceptance.” Because that much he'd learned from David. “And since this is **Rachel** , and my best case scenario has her getting on the dean's shit list? She's going to do her best to punish me, again, since there's no way she'll admit – even to herself – that she brought it on herself. The best way to do that, in Rachel's mind, is bound to be to make college as hellish as high school was.

“She'll tell everyone who wants to listen, and most of the ones who don't, that I got a rejection letter at first, and that I only got in after my dad, the senator, made a call. And it'll be true, in the strictest sense of the word, won't it? Plus, again, there's no way NYADA will want to risk their reputation, meaning the faculty will let her get away with spreading that, since correcting her will make them look bad.

“Not really looking forward to four years of that, dad. Besides, I'm not risking you. Having you as a senator, someone who is LGBT friendly and pro-arts, that's important. Especially from a district like this. NYADA is **not** worth losing that over.”

The silence at the other end told Kurt his dad was thinking over what he'd said, instead of just reacting, and that was good. Every word had been true, after all.

“So now what? You give up on NYADA and do what instead? Because I know you didn't have a back-up plan,” and the disapproval of that particular stupidity shone through.

“I want to leave. I know the plan was for me to stay here for the summer and work, but I just...I can't do that now. With what I know, I'll explode, or do something even more stupid. So, I've talked to the school, and as of an hour ago I don't have to attend classes anymore.”

“Okay, that's, we can do that. I can arrange for a room for you, and–”

And _oh_ he hadn't even considered that option. Talk about being blind. Stress and despair did that, he guessed.

“I wasn't planning on going to DC, dad. I was thinking I'd go stay with a friend, somewhere I can be left in peace.” _Somewhere no one will think to look for me._

“Who? I'm sorry, kiddo, but as far as I know all your friends are in Glee. Or did you keep in touch with one of those Dalton kids without me knowing?”

“No, and even if I had I wouldn't choose to stay with one of them. Not when I know they'd probably pick Blaine over me anyway, which would make that a no on the peace. I was thinking of David, actually.”

He held his breath. His recent friendship with David was something his dad had been weary about the entire time, thanks to their past history as bully and victim, and chances were this would not go over well.

There was always the “I'm a legal adult” card, but it wasn't one he was eager to use.

“Karofsky? Huh. You two really are getting along better now, eh. Okay. Say I agree to this – and yes, I know I can't really stop you, but I do hope you'll listen to my opinion – what are we talking here?”

Kurt outlined the plan, or what little of one there was, and answered his dad's multiple questions with fingers crossed.

“Fine. I expect you to email me at least twice a week, and at least one actual conversation during the weekends. Put the plane ticket on the emergency card I gave you, and keep that with you. Leave the car in the airport and see if I can pick up the keys there. Otherwise just send them to me.

“Now, what are you – or we, I guess – telling Finn and Carole? And for that matter, where exactly was Finn during all of this?” And that was his dad's menacing voice.

“ **I** wasn't going to tell them anything, though I'm okay with you telling Carole everything as long as she promises not to pass it on.

“As for Finn, well, he was” _or so I really hope_ “staying out of it. Like I **asked** him to.”

“He what? Dammit Kurt, he promised that he was done staying on the sidelines! You two are supposed to be brothers now, and–”

“ **And** he's doing as I asked. Dad, this isn't exactly easy for him either. Rachel is his fiancée. They are getting married next week. Finn hasn't always been the best at being supportive when it comes to Rachel” _or me_ “and I'm not going to act like it's a bad thing that he's finally gotten his act together regarding that. Besides, he **is** my brother, and he's going to stay my brother for the rest of our lives if I have anything to say about it.

“This, what's happening now? This'll blow over soon. Hell, considering it's Rachel, chances are his marriage will too. We have the time to fix this, and we will, once the dust settles. I'm just not going to mess things up right now, and I'm not going to let you make me feel guilty about that.

“Now, I'm sure you have a lot more to do today, and I have to pack. I'll call you when I get there, okay?”

“Okay. Let me know when you leave for the airport as well, and you know, that your plane takes off in one piece. Love you, kid.”

“Love you too, dad.”

_That...went over better that I'd hoped._

Feeling relieved he went on to tackle the almost Herculean task of packing for the occasion. He'd only be able to bring one suitcase, and since he had no idea how long he'd end up staying that meant packing for all eventualities. That in turn meant making sure everything could be mixed and matched, and leaving his more 'out there' outfits behind.

The one thing he didn't pack for was cold weather, though he did transfer his winter clothing into a second suitcase. He had no idea where he'd be when winter arrived, or even fall, for that matter, but this way his dad could easily send him what he'd need. Or he could come visit, wherever, and bring it – or Kurt could visit in DC and pick it up there. In this, at least, he had options.

By the time Finn came home Kurt was in bed, packing all done, ticket ordered and nerves dialed up. _This is really happening._

 

The next morning Kurt got up early, giving himself time to eat breakfast and get out of the house before Finn would wake up. That way there would be no way for the other boy to corner him or notice that something was off. It felt a little ridiculous, leaving at 7AM when he didn't need to be at the airport until 11, but he wasn't willing to risk staying.

Sooner or later one of the Gleeks would realize Kurt wasn't in school, and even if the teachers kept his leave of absence to themselves as requested, there would be questions. Someone might go looking for him – Finn, most likely, or maybe Blaine. And he was **not** subjecting himself to that.

The plan, the one he'd told his dad, had been for him to go straight to the airport and wait for his flight. There were, after all, enough places to wait comfortably with a coffee and a book or a movie. Instead he turned the other way.

Before leaving Ohio behind he had one last stop to make.

 

When parking at Dalton a sense of familiarity and nostalgia immediately overwhelmed Kurt. There were so many memories connected to the place – and no matter how he’d felt about the uniforms and the conformity, he’d  **needed** Dalton. It had given him a lot of happiness, in the end. Still... He shook it off – he wasn’t there to indulge in that.

Getting inside was easy, as was finding his target. The Warblers still ate breakfast together, it seemed, as most of them were gathered at one long table – the same they'd used when Kurt had been one of them – in the dining hall. The look of shock on the other boy’s face once he spotted Kurt was priceless, and Kurt soaked it up. (He might be there to do good, but that didn’t mean he had to act like a saint.)

“Hummel? What are you doing here?”

I wanted to talk to you. In private, actually, so if we could...”

Walking away Sebastian kept up his jibes about getting Blaine for his own, no matter how prettily Kurt begged, but Kurt let it wash over him. He didn’t have the energy to engage in such trivial, petty rivalry or for paying much attention to it. He just wanted to get this over and  **leave** .

“So. You wanted to talk? Or was that a cover for tearing my clothes off and start worshiping my body? Because if it was, then sorry, I–”

“Just stop. I’m not here for that, or your so called witty remarks. I’m actually here to do you a favor.”

**That** caught the meerkat’s attention.

“I’m not sure if he told you, but Blaine and I are over. For good. If you really want to be with him, be my guest, go after him, but there are a couple of things I think you should know first.”

Because no one deserved to be treated the way Blaine had treated him, and in a way also Jeremiah, not even Sebastian Smythe. Of course, if the smirky little meerkat were to choose it... Kurt still thought he should have all the facts first.

“He had his good sides, obviously, and I’m sure you’re pretty aware of them. What you might not know about are the bad ones. He’s a hypocrite, and has an unfortunate tendency to shame people for doing things he finds no problem with doing himself.

“If the two of you get together he’s likely to bitch about your... Well, your history of having been free with your attention. He might have been okay with your flirting before, but if you’re with him? No. He’s going to expect you to be okay with him doing all the things you’re not supposed to, though.

“Also, he can be really vindictive and impulsive. That’s why I wanted to talk to you, really. There’s a chance he’ll blame you for me breaking up with him, because he'll want to blame **someone** , and if he does, he’ll go after you. And he’s got ammo, Sebastian.

“When the two of you were talking, before, you... You sent him a video.”

He didn’t specify what kind of video, and luckily he didn’t have to. Sebastian’s facial expression made it obvious he knew exactly what Kurt was talking about, and that he hadn’t expected Kurt to know about it.

“I saw it. It’s not what broke us up, but it didn’t help. Let’s say it...highlighted a few of Blaine’s character flaws, shall we? The thing is, he has it saved on his computer – or at least he had a few weeks ago. Sebastian, it falls under the label of child pornography.”

He paused for a bit, surprisingly worried about the other boy’s white face.

“You didn’t think he’d keep it, did you? Well, he did, and if he starts thinking that it had anything to do with our breakup, that **you** had something to do with it? I’m sorry, but he’s more than a little unreliable right now. Chances are he’ll make sure it goes viral.

“The same goes for if you start dating and you do something he disapproves of, I guess. I thought you should know, so you could do something about it if you wanted to.”

Kurt stood up and straightened his clothes.

“That was it, really. Now it’s up to you. But, if you do decide you want to try and get rid of that video? Talking to Blaine might not be the best approach. I’d recommend talking to Mrs Anderson. **Not** Mr Anderson, not unless you **want** to get in trouble. Good luck,” and he started walking towards the door

“Hummel? Why are you doing this? I– I’m not ungrateful, I just don’t get it.”

At that moment Kurt saw something in Sebastian Smythe, for the first time, that didn’t annoy him. It reminded him of how David had looked at the hospital, and it made his heart ache a little. He’d been so angry with Sebastian, had built him up as this villain in his head, and hadn’t really let that go even after finding out how innocent Blaine **hadn’t** been.

He’d forgotten that Sebastian was just a high school kid, like him, and was startled by the realization that the other boy most likely was younger than him. It only made him feel better about his decision to warn him. ‘Criminal chipmunk’ or not, this was just a teenage boy who’d made the same mistake that Kurt himself had made: wanting Blaine Anderson. Sure, they’d gone about it differently, but that didn’t mean Kurt had been any smarter than Sebastian.

And the boy didn’t deserve to have his future ruined by some stupid mistake. No one did.

Huh. Seemed his protective streak even included the meerkat these days.  _Surely this has to be a sign that the world’s about to end._

“It’s the right thing to do. I might not like you very much, but I wouldn’t want **anyone** at risk of something like that. Besides, the Sebastian that I saw after what happened to David Karofsky? He deserves a chance. I don’t want to be someone who could have given him that, but didn’t.

“Goodbye, Sebastian.”

He left the quiet boy behind him, and saw himself out. A quick detour took him to Pavarotti’s final resting place, for a last goodbye, before getting back in his car.

This was it. He tapped the message icon, chose his pre-written message of “Heading for the airport now” and watched as it flew off to its two recipients. Once that was done he turned his phone off and started driving.

He was done here. Kurt Hummel was getting out, heading towards a new future, and there was nothing holding him back.

The freedom felt amazing.

 

~The End ~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. This is the end of this story, but defintely not the end of the story. Starting tomorrow I'll be posting the next part of the series, "Dance Me to the End of Love" which is a collection of one-shots from other characters' POV. (Providing the "fly on the wall" knowledge that no singlePOV story can ever give.) You can skip that, if you absolutely want, but then you might get confused when we return to Kurt again.


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